


in last night's dream

by acastle



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Dirty Talk, M/M, Minor Byun Baekhyun/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, Minor Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Bae Joohyun | Irene, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 08:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acastle/pseuds/acastle
Summary: “It occurs to me we haven’t traveled together,”Minseok says, and Chanyeol chokes on his tongue.“I don’t want to pressure you into coming, as it is so last minute, but. If you want, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to ask you to come to Milan, with me.”“Milan? With you? For fashion week?” he eeks out, and he’s thankful he’s sitting down, otherwise his knees would be shaking.(Chanyeol is in love with his sugar daddy. As one is, when Minseok is the way he is.)





	in last night's dream

**Author's Note:**

> don't send to anyone involved.
> 
> fully inspired by peak sugar baby, platinum haired chanyeol in bed with his shoulder peeking out, posing with some perfume. doesn't have much of a plot, was meant to be pwp lol but have fun and please it's cheesy i'm sorry jkfnvjrnr

“Baek, why is Yixing calling me?” Chanyeol stares at his phone, vibrating and the caller ID, _ ‘byun’s daddy’ _lighting up the top of the screen, and he can’t get another word out before Baekhyun slams onto him, grabbing his phone and rejecting the call. “Jesus, you could have told me to do that myself-“

“Don’t reply to his texts or answer his calls,” Baekhyun sniffs, pouting and throwing Chanyeol’s phone back to him. He’s barely able to catch it. 

“Why not?” he says, blinking as Yixing tries to call him again, only for Baekhyun to grab it and almost throw his phone to the ground. Chanyeol is barely able to snatch it back, cradling it close to his chest, eyes wide. 

This phone hadn’t been in any case cheap, and even though Minseok barely gave it a thought before he had purchased it for him, motivated simply by the look of quiet want on Chanyeol’s face when they had passed by the store and a model had been on display on the window, Chanyeol _ treasures _ it. So many messages from Minseok that have made him blush, get hard, and melt into the pathetic little puddle of _ sugar baby so deeply in love it’s sad. _ And the multitude of pictures Minseok had sent him, shirtless, smiling into the camera, and a select few where his delicious cock is held in his hand, thick and so _ tempting, _ making Chanyeol’s mouth water and crave for it, crammed right into his tight little hole. 

“Because!” Baekhyun almost screams. Then he sobs, blushing hard, before he whispers hysterically, “I told him _ I’m in love with him.” _

“What?” Chanyeol blinks, almost dropping his phone himself, shocked. 

It’s nothing less than a bolt out of the blue. Baekhyun had been the one to rope him into this whole thing, a seasoned sugar baby, confident and charming and a menace in bed that apparently a lot of rich people are into. He’d been the one to teach him all he knows, about how to deposit his pay smartly, how to stand his ground and never ask for anything less than _ just a little more _ than what he really deserved, how to be appropriately charismatic and even dressing him sometimes, and most importantly, almost a constant reminder: _ “Never get too attached, don’t fall in love. That’s hellishly amateurish.” _

So, for him to break the most important rule he always emphasized. Chanyeol can only blink, mouth gaping at him in surprise.

It’s not like he didn’t know. He’s known Baekhyun for _ years, _knows when he’s doing it to get rich, and knows when he actually means it. He’s known for a while that Baekhyun had nothing less than overflowing adoration for Yixing, his eyes shining whenever Yixing would come to pick him up, arms ladened with gifts for him, maybe the most important of them all being his dimpled, gentle smile, all for his baby. 

But for him to admit it, to have admitted it. Chanyeol can only imagine his panic, clearly visible in his eyes. 

“Did you really tell him that?” he asks, and Baekhyun lets out a little screech, messing up his hair in his panic. 

“It _ just came out,” _ he whines, crying. “He was being so _ perfect, _doing that thing with his hips, you know the one-”

“I don’t,” Chanyeol says, the corners of his mouth turned down, and he’d really rather not know.

“-And I fucking _ came _and screamed and cried,” he says, “and I poured out my stupid lil homo heart out to him and told him I loved him, his dick still in my ass and his come dripping out of me. And I ran the hell out of there.”

“But why is he calling _ me?” _

“I threw my phone out,” Baekhyun says, clearly still mortified at what he had confessed to his sugar daddy. 

_ “Jesus-” _

“I can’t ever face him again,” he cries, and he’s a dramatic bitch. Chanyeol loves him, owes him maybe 80% of his bank account as he had been the one to introduce Minseok to him, but he’s still reeling, and knows he’s just making things extra hard for himself.

“Baek, maybe. Maybe you should just take to Yixing?” he asks. Baekhyun wails, and Chanyeol flinches. “He’s a reasonable guy. And he obviously cares about you, maybe you should hear him out?”

“He cares about me because I suck his dick,” Baekhyun rolls his eyes, and Chanyeol doesn’t know how Yixing puts up with him, how he can even find him _ delightful. _

“That can’t be true,” Chanyeol says, trying his best to soothe him, “I mean, well, yes, that _ does _contribute to it, but-”

“Baby.”

They both jump, turn to stare at the door, where Yixing stands at the threshold, chest heaving, maybe from exertion from heaving himself up the five flights of stairs to get to their apartment, or maybe because the shine in his eyes clearly exposes how he feels. Chanyeol can read it _ so clearly, _always has, and he really doesn’t know how Baekhyun could have missed it. 

He still can’t see it, evident in the way he whimpers, hides behind Chanyeol, shielding himself from his love’s eyes. Chanyeol wants to roll his eyes, but he stands patiently, watching as Yixing breathes slowly, stepping inside properly, only looking for his baby. “Baby, Baekhyun, please.”

“Go away,” Baekhyun whines, and Yixing just looks to where he is with so much _ fondness, _so much endearment and devotion that it makes Chanyeol’s own chest ache, full of emotions he himself can’t admit.

“No, baby.”

“Just leave me to be embarrassed on my own,” Baekhyun says. “I know I ruined everything. Just leave me be, I’ll return everything you ever bought for me, just-”

“Now why would you do that?” Yixing says sadly, and Baekhyun just makes himself smaller behind Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol bites back the sigh he wants to let out, stares at the ceiling instead, standing between them, but would truly do anything to not be here. He tries walking away, but Baekhyun clings to him, fisting at his sleeves and hiding from Yixing still. 

“Baby, please,” Yixing pleads gently, and _ really, _Chanyeol shouldn’t be here. “Please listen to me.”

“I don’t want to,” he whines, pulling at Chanyeol’s back, and Chanyeol looks helplessly at Yixing, apologetic and not knowing what to do. 

Yixing just gives him an awkward smile, before looking to where Baekhyun is shielding himself away. He looks so obviously enamored, and Chanyeol looks up to the ceiling, sighing, because if Baekhyun weren’t such an idiot, this would be solved so simply. 

“Baek, just _ talk to him-“ _

_ “No!” _ he sobs, and Chanyeol can feel him shaking his head incessantly behind him, and Yixing, patience of a saint, just sighs once. His smile is pained, but he looks _ so in love _Chanyeol feels like he’s intruding. Which he kind of is. 

“Baek, baby, _ my baby. _My love,” Yixing says, and Chanyeol can feel Baekhyun still behind him. 

“What?” he says meekly, and Yixing just steps closer to them, and Chanyeol really should leave, but Baekhyun’s grasp on his shirt is tight. 

“I don’t want to admit my feelings for you this way,” Yixing says, and Baekhyun stops sniffing. Peeks his head out from behind Chanyeol, and stares at Yixing, and Yixing’s smile is so glowing, even Chanyeol feels his breath catch a little. “I wanted it to be more intimate, and I planned to whisk you away to somewhere where it could just be the two of us, but. It doesn’t matter where we are, because what I’ll say is the same.”

“And what is that?” he says, stepping out a little more. Chanyeol should step away, but Yixing steps closer, and he feels trapped as they stare at each other, on either side of him. 

“That _ I love you,” _ he says, sincerity and affection lining every inch of his face. Baekhyun gasps, and starts to cry again, and Chanyeol judges _ the hell out of him, _doesn’t understand why he’s crying so much. “I love you. You have charmed me right from the beginning.”

“Daddy, Yixing,” Baekhyun sobs, and Chanyeol runs, runs away before they can trap him in between them as they come together and embrace each other, their lips meeting and their moans audible as he runs to his rooms, silence only meeting him when he closes his door behind him. 

He breathes hard, and wonders how he got here.

That’s not to say that he’s not happy for Baekhyun. He’s happy for him, _ ecstatic. _That he’s found someone who loves his quirks and accepts him, that someone really decent treasures him. Yixing is a good man, and Baekhyun deserves nothing less.

It just. Leaves him with a lot of thoughts.

Especially since Baekhyun broke his most sacred rule in the cliche filled book of the sugar baby manual. One he often repeated to Chanyeol so he wouldn’t forget, as if he knew that Chanyeol would break it the minute he introduced him to Kim Minseok, creative director of the biggest luxury fashion brand in Asia, quiet and dripping with charm, magnetic and _ gorgeous _and with the thickest, prettiest cock Chanyeol had ever had in his ass, and. He hadn’t been wrong. 

There was only so much Chanyeol could do when Minseok is the way he is, beautiful and kind and so, so warm. He has always been doomed to fail, and Baekhyun knew it. The traitor.

So, now. With Baekhyun and his sugar daddy boning it out in the living room sofa, or carpet, if the way Baekhyun flails would more likely indicate, in mutual love, Chanyeol feels. Jealous. 

Because they’d been lucky, they feel the same way about each other. 

And Chanyeol is here, still working through two jobs to pay off his loans from college, regularly dicked down and spoiled by a wonderful, wonderful man he can never admit his feelings to or call his. 

He feels a little shortchanged. 

It’s then that his his phone vibrates in his pocket. He sighs, moving towards the bed and ignoring the wet noises coming from outside the door, and he answers the call, not bothering to see who’s on the other line before he greets in a bored tone, “Hello?”

_ “Hi, baby,” _ and immediately, Chanyeol sits up, cheeks pinking up almost instantly and his heart racing. _ “Sorry, you sound preoccupied, should I call you another time?” _

“No, Minseok, no, I’m not busy, just tired,” he says, and Minseok coos on the other end, and he feels so much better already. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

_ “No need to apologize, Chanyeol, baby,” _ Minseok assures him quietly, his tone gentle and fond and Chanyeol wants to love him forever. His chest throbs painfully at the thought. _ “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” _

“I’m okay,” he says, and he is, more or less. Just having been officially cast as a third wheel minutes ago notwithstanding. “Are you okay? Not overworking again, are you?”

_ “I just need to finish a few more pieces before I need to fly out for Milan,” _he answers, and Chanyeol can hear it: the hum of the sewing machine as stitches the pieces of the garment together, a snip of the shears, the hum of the machine again, running twice. Chanyeol loves watching him work. 

Minseok, for someone as high up in the brand as he is, works so many hours, is so hands on, and it had surprised Chanyeol at first, that he did even the menial jobs of repairing and altering and once, sewing on the buttons to a sublime patterned blazer, but now, it is something that just adds to the list of reasons of why he loves Minseok so much. 

He is so talented, so deserving of his every success, but he remains humble, and works alongside the seamstresses and the like, bringing them along with him to achieve his vision. 

“It’s going well?” Chanyeol asks him, and Minseok chuckles. He drinks up the soft sound of his laugh, and closes his eyes. 

_ “A little behind schedule, but when is that not ever the case,” _Minseok tells him. 

“When do you leave for Milan?” 

_ “Less than three weeks to go,” _ he answers. The machine stops on the other line before he says, _ “Ah. Speaking of. Chanyeol, baby, will you be busy in three weeks?” _

Chanyeol pauses. “Um. Just work, the usual. Why?”

_ “It occurs to me we haven’t traveled together,” _ Minseok says, and Chanyeol chokes on his tongue. _ “I don’t want to pressure you into coming, as it is so last minute, but. If you want, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to ask you to come to Milan, with me.” _

“Milan? With you? For fashion week?” he eeks out, and he’s thankful he’s sitting down, otherwise his knees would be shaking.

_ “Yes,” _ Minseok says, and Chanyeol can hear the smile in his voice, _ “I’ve been invited to a few other shows as well, and I would love to bring you along. And we can fly in early, maybe for a day, I want to bring you around. Milan is beautiful, you would love it-” _

“M-Minseok, I. That’s too much,” he says, curling in a little on himself. “It would cost too much, I know it’s not cheap travelling to Europe, I don’t want to be too much of a burden-”

_ “No, baby boy, no,” _ Minseok says, and Chanyeol hears a chair scrape back on the floor on the other end, and he can picture it: Minseok standing, trying to soothe and comfort him from where he is. _ “Never a burden to me, not at all. I _ ** _want _ ** _ to show you everything, I want to bring you there. And. It would be a waste, for my muse not to see all the pieces I made with him in mind.” _

Chanyeol pauses again, the words repeating themselves over and over in his head. “Your. Your muse?”

_ “You, Chanyeol, baby,” _ Minseok says simply. And Chanyeol really stood _ no chance _ at all, he falls again. Like the pining little bitch that he is. _ “I mean. I won’t force you to come, if you really don’t want to. But if you do, if you would allow me to bring you with me, I promise I will show you the very best of what it has to offer. I’m sure you will love it. But, it is up to you-” _

“Okay,” he says, so quietly he’s not sure if he’s heard, but Minseok pauses immediately, always listening to him. His chest feels so stupidly warm. He’s so stupid, he can’t believe how _ in love _he is with him. “I’ll go. I’ll go with you.”

_ “Oh, oh baby,” _ Minseok exhales, sounding so relieved and _ happy, _ and for that alone, Chanyeol knows he made the right choice. _ “Thank you, baby boy.” _

“I really think I should be the one thanking you,” Chanyeol says, and he can’t stop blushing, can’t stop the pounding of his chest. He’s so overwhelmed. “Should, should I buy the tickets with you? I mean, um-”

_ “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of everything,” _ Minseok tells him. _ “Don’t worry about it. You’re with me, just be you.” _

“Okay, daddy,” he says. He pauses, then realizes suddenly. Pats his cheek, feeling so fucking shy, “I. Wait, you mean. I’ll be with you? Like, people will photograph us together?!”

_ “You don’t have to be photographed if you don’t want to be, baby,” _ Minseok tells him, _ “but, yes. You will be seen with me.” _

“Minnie, _ daddy, _ wait,” he says, suddenly panicked, “I’m going to look so _ inferior _next to you, fuck-”

_ “Baby, no, you’re nothing less than beautiful,” _ Minseok says, sounding so sure of himself. _ “You have nothing to worry about. You’re gorgeous, baby boy. I’m sure it will be me, standing on the sidelines when everyone sees how beautiful you are.” _

“Daddy, _ please,” _he says, and he’s blushing again, face all hot. “I’m not that pretty.”

_ “You’re beautiful,” _ Minseok says firmly, never sounding surer. Chanyeol hears someone talk to Minseok on the other end, and Minseok sighs, before replying a confirmation, and he comes back to the phone, saying, _ “Chanyeol, baby, I’m sorry, I need to go, we just got the delivery for the shoes for the runway show and five pairs came in the wrong size, can I call you again later?” _

“Call me when you’re not busy and after you’ve rested,” he says, pouting a little because he can’t offer him much more. “I wish I could help you more. I feel kind of useless.”

_ “No, baby boy,” _ Minseok says. His small smile is audible. _ “You’re doing more than enough, just by being there for me. I’ll see you soon, then? I’ll send you the details of everything, so you can file a leave from work.” _

“Okay,” he says shyly. “Bye, daddy.”

_ “Bye, baby,” _ Minseok says, and it would be so easy to tack on, an _ ‘I love you,’ _and it takes everything in him for Chanyeol not to blurt it out.

He hangs up, sighing. He can hear Baekhyun and Yixing fucking in the living room, not even caring to lower their volume, and he sighs, lying back down. 

Milan. Holy shit. 

He texts Sehun, _ ‘what can i do to look less like unrefined trash that survives on sugar baby money and ramen noodles?’ _

_ ‘wtf’ _ is Sehun’s first reply, before he replies again less than a minute later, _ ‘get a haircut and shave.’ _ Then, _ ‘and dye it a nice color. kyungsoo says platinum looks rich.’ _

He scoffs, and throws his phone, and it lands on his pillow. Platinum. Who has time for that.

.

“Oh, baby,” Minseok says, a few weeks later when he comes to pick him up for the airport, Chanyeol blushing and trying to hide his hair under his hat, but Minseok touches his hand gently, and pushes back the hat to reveal the full head of platinum blonde hair, swept back and showing off the shorn sides of his undercut. “Oh, _ Chanyeol-” _

_ “I know, _I knew it was a bad idea,” he pouts, “I knew it, I never should have trusted Soo and Sehun-”

Minseok pulls his face down, and kisses him, right there, in the middle of his shitty apartment building’s just as shitty lobby. His lips are so soft and immediately wet, kitten licking into Chanyeol’s mouth, curling his tongue against his, and Chanyeol whimpers, and he feels himself get _ so small, _trying to burrow into Minseok’s heat as he chases his lips, pressing his mouth against Minseok’s and whining when Minseok sucks on his tongue.

“You are a _ treasure,” _Minseok tells him, eyes so heated, and Chanyeol whines, licking against his tongue, whining a little more when Minseok pulls away with a final chaste kiss, and his whole face is red and he’s pretty sure Heechul is snickering from his post at the guard stand, but he doesn’t give a shit, not when Minseok looks at him like he’s precious and priceless. “Remind me to thank your friends, when we return. For now, I need you to myself.”

_ “Minnie,” _Chanyeol whimpers, and Minseok smirks gently as he laces their fingers together, making for the exit as he nods back to Heechul, who salutes him in turn. “What time do we need to get to the airport?”

“Anytime,” Minseok says, reaching back to pat his ass lightly, drawing back after a few moments, much to Chanyeol’s displeasure. 

“Huh?” he blinks, not understanding. “Don’t we need to check in, and stuff?”

“The company is lending us their private jet, baby,” he says casually, and Chanyeol chokes. Minseok looks back at him, smirking, saying, “I have _ many _plans. Many such that would not be suitable for a commercial flight.”

“R-Right,” he says, his fingers tightening around Minseok’s. 

The jet, predictably, is gorgeous. As classy as a private jet can go, minimal design and sophisticated, with a small, courteous crew and champagne and strawberries and steak onboard. Chanyeol feels thoroughly unworthy, almost unwilling to step into it, but Minseok is there, holding his hand, assuring him quietly, as he always does. Making him feel like he’s worth his weight in gold and diamonds and every precious thing. 

He watches as Minseok pours him a glass of bubbly wonderful champagne, and Chanyeol can tell from the bottle alone that it’s worth maybe twice his rent, and when he takes the first sip, he changes his mind. It’s more than likely to be at least _ three times _his rent. 

Ten minutes into the flight, Minseok nods to the flight attendants, telling them, “Thank you, Jongdae, Wendy. Please leave us, we have some private matters to attend to.”

“Of course, sir,” Wendy bows, and Jongdae follows, but not without a small smirk, which Minseok just responds with a roll of his eyes. 

“Need _ anything, _sir?” Jongdae asks, and Minseok waves him off, and he follows Wendy out to leave them.

Chanyeol shifts in his seat, “Um. Was he-”

“Jongdae and I have known each other for many years, he’s a friend who can’t seem to get enough of teasing me,” Minseok answers him. He looks up, and he must see the discomfort on Chanyeol’s face, because he puts down his face and leans forward in his cushy, fancy seat, asks him quietly, seriously, “Baby, did he make you uncomfortable? Did I say something off? I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful-”

“No, _ no, _Minseok,” he says, blushing slightly, leaning against the palm Minseok brings up to cup his cheek. “It’s okay, it’s not about that. I was just. Wondering, how the two of you knew each other.”

“Still, I will be more careful with my words from now on,” he says, eyes gentle, and Chanyeol feels his chest melt, his whole body following suit. Every bit of him, inside out, falling more deeply in love with him.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Doesn’t know if anything will be appropriate. So, he decides to not comment on it further, asks, “What did you mean by ‘private matters?’ Is this what you were pertaining to, earlier?”

“Yes, it is, baby,” Minseok says, and he smirks mildly. “If you’re alright with it?”

“Anything you want to do, I’m alright with,” Chanyeol tells him, as he always does, Minseok never failing him and always making him feel like a _ king, _and he swallows when Minseok smiles at him, just the slightest bit indecent, but it’s enough. More than enough.

“Climb onto my lap, darling,” Minseok croons, and Chanyeol is quick to follow, fitting his long, gangly legs on either side of Minseok, the seat wide enough to accommodate them, _ amazing, _and he looks down at Minseok, who smiles at him so serenely, rubbing his ass with an easy palm.

“Can I kiss you, daddy?” Chanyeol asks, maybe a tad too meek for what he intends, but Minseok nods, leaning up to give him what he wants first. 

Minseok always kisses him so _ nicely, _ wet, languid as his tongue slides in and lips soft against Chanyeol’s, and Chanyeol hums against his mouth, arms cradles over Minseok’s shoulders, and it’s so _ weird. _ That this is his life, thousands of feet up in the sky, in a private airplane, on the lap of one of the richest, most gorgeous men he has ever seen or encountered, said man trailing his lips and tongue down his neck, hands on his bottom and rolling his ass cheeks in his palms, making Chanyeol moan, grind down on his lap, his strong, _ perfect, _sturdy thighs, make needy little noises against his mouth.

“Hmm, baby boy,” Minseok says, and Chanyeol shifts on top of him, getting his mouth on his, and it’s messy, their tongues licking against each other and across lips, teeth, and Chanyeol’s chest is hot, his pants tight, his cock getting stiff, steady.

“Daddy,” he breathes, and Minseok moans, biting at his jaw gently. “Daddy, _ daddy-” _

“Baby, _ baby,” _Minseok hums, moving Chanyeol’s head to reach his mouth again. “Chanyeol. Can I use your mouth? Will you let me fuck your mouth?”

It’s instant, and Chanyeol gets to his knees on the impossibly nice floor, certainly much nicer than the cheap flooring of his apartment, with his hands reaching out and clumsily undoing Minseok’s pants, pulling them down along with his underwear, down his perfect hips, his thighs, until his cock, already half-hard, so thick and pink, springs free, slightly wet at the tip and Chanyeol’s mouth _ waters _with his want.

“Oh, _ oh,” _he whimpers, reaching out to take his cock in his hand, and Minseok moans above him, louder still as Chanyeol strokes him slowly, from the tip to the base, thumbing the most prominent vein and leaning down to tongue at the head, licking the slit.

“Ah, slowly, baby,” Minseok says gently, reaching down and touching Chanyeol’s ears affectionately. Chanyeol doesn’t know why Minseok is so enamored with his too big ears, but he melts exponentially whenever he lickes along the edge, bites the lobe gently, presses his lips right behind them. He melts at a lot of things. 

So he goes slow, as much as he wants to go faster. He loves Minseok’s cock, in any hole, loves that he can somehow give this man so much pleasure and make him feel good by doing things he really likes doing. Loves sucking his cock, bobbing his head and taking his cock and slurping and licking, tracing his tongue on the veins and swiping against the very head. 

Cock, by any means, doesn’t exactly taste good. But Minseok, perfect man that he is, grooms himself well, makes sure that Chanyeol is comfortable _ always, _ and that makes sucking him off _ so much better, _not that it was ever not good to begin with. His cock is so thick, the perfect size for Chanyeol’s mouth, for his asshole, for his body, and Chanyeol loves having him on his tongue. 

He goes down on his length, further and further, until he can’t take much more, mouth full. He looks up, and Minseok is watching him, eyes careful and reaching down, touching Chanyeol’s ears. Chanyeol groans, bobs his head, reaches with his free hand to pet Minseok’s balls, full and heavy, making him moan above him, making him say in a voice like steam, hot and full of air, _ “Chanyeol, fuck, baby, your fucking mouth.” _

He bobs, sucking his cock, going up and down, groaning, until Minseok begins to slowly move his hips, taking Chanyeol’s face in his hands and guiding him on his cock, fucking his mouth, fucking his face, making him feel good and _ using _him, pumping his cock into his mouth and filling him up.

“Fuck, daddy, fuck my mouth,” he gasps, pulling off for one moment, then taking Minseok’s cock back in, and Minseok _ gives it to him. _Drives his dick into where Chanyeol wants him, making him choke and his eyes water and he wants more, closing his eyes and licking around the head lewdly, wrapping his lips around the head and tasting the precome on his tongue.

Chanyeol moans around Minseok’s length, reaching down and pressing hard on his own cock tenting his pants, everything overwhelming him slightly. His ears pop from the altitude, and it’s relatively silent in the plane, and being so high up in the clouds, literally and sexually, is sinking him, a little.

“Baby, baby, hey,” Minseok hums, leaning down, cupping Chanyeol’s face as he pulls off from his cock with a soft _ pop, _ breathing hard and licking his lips, tasting his daddy all over them. His neck is hot, his whole face is hot, and his thighs quiver. His whole body is literally _ trembling, _just from a few minutes of sucking cock. 

It occurs to him that he might be in for much more than he bargained for, for the next four days.

“Sorry, sorry daddy,” he says, leaning forward to take his cock in again, but Minseok leans down, kisses him soundly. Chanyeol moans, whimpers against his lips, comforted for the few moments he’s given. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” Minseok tells him, and Chanyeol grips his strong thighs, nails biting into Minseok’s skin slightly. “Go at your own pace, hmm?”

“Want to make you feel good,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok just smiles again, so fucking _ tender _ and _ gentle _with his touches and Chanyeol is really fucking tempted to spew out every word of love he’s been holding in for months. 

“I’ll feel best when _ you _feel good, my darling,” he says, easiest thing in the world for him. He’s so effortless with his words, and Chanyeol feels himself warm all over.”Which is why I’m going to need you to sit back down.” 

Chanyeol blinks up at him, confused, maybe even a little disappointed. He follows anyway, wondering what Minseok must mean. 

He didn’t think he’d mean _ this: _ Chanyeol, sitting in his seat, naked from the waist down, his pants and underwear thrown somewhere. His legs hanging from each armrest, spread wide and exposing his hole, Minseok kneeling in front of him and _ laving _at his ass, rimming him, eating him out. 

Chanyeol keeps moaning, fighting to stay quiet, trying not to look down where Minseok is essentially making out with his asshole, sinking his tongue in and tracing the rim before delving in, and his whole fucking body is _ hot, _like he’s floating. Higher than the clouds. When they’re actually up in the sky. 

He realizes he’s a little hysterical, brain going a little haywire as Minseok makes him feel _ so fucking good, _licking his ass, and he covers his face with his hands, hoping to any deity out there that Wendy and Jongdae and the pilot and the souls up in the heavens don’t hear him sob and scream as Minseok licks him out, tongue plunging in deep and curling inside him, so much filth and obscenity and indecency and his cock is rock hard, smearing against his sweater and he’s almost very sure that he’s not goign to survive this.

“Baby, hey,” Minseok says against his hole, looking up at him, and Chanyeol looks down, feeling so fucking shy, even though Minseok _ loves _eating him out, loves his hole, and this is certainly not the first time they’d done this. “Won’t you let me hear you? You don’t have to worry about them, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“N-No, I’m just,” he tries to explain, and he somehow can’t. Minseok seems to understand anyway, smiling lightly, and kissing the innermost part of his thigh. 

“It’s alright,” Minseok tells him, leaning back down, “whatever you’re comfortable with. But, I hope you always remember, you can always show me anything, all parts of you, and I would never judge you. I just want you to feel good.”

He wonders if Minseok would ever judge him for being in love with him.

He doesn’t think about it further, when Minseok fucks his ass with his tongue again, tongue slicking his hole up, and he feels the wetness leak down out of his rim, and he moans. Louder, still, when Minseok carefully prods a finger along with his tongue. 

“Ah, _ ah, fuck,” _he moans, and he just about screams as Minseok fucks him, eating him out, fingering him carefullyc and Chanyeol really can’t focus on anything else, just the tongue in his ass, the fingers stretching him slightly, and Minseok’s hot breath against his hole.

“My baby,” Minseok breathes, “doing so well, taking me so well. Look so fucking _ lovely, _debauched. Like you can’t get enough.”

And Chanyeol really _ can’t, _wants more and more, and he gasps, his belly hot and cock hard against his stomach, moments away from snapping. 

Minseok must feel his urge, his need to come, because his free hand is reaching up, feeling up Chanyeol’s skin, until he gets his hand around his hard cock, and Chanyeol whines, his whole body trembling. 

Minseok’s hand is small, but so sure of his motions. He wraps his fingers around his girth, and begins to pull him off, keeping in pace as he licks into his ass. 

“Daddy, _ daddy,” _ he keeps sobbing, and his voice is _ too loud _in the small confines of the plane, but Minseok just goes harder, faster. Giving him everything.

“Beautiful, my baby,” Minseok tells him, drawing back from his ass and watching his own hand stroking Chanyeol’s cock, and Chanyeol can’t stop shaking, his thighs trembling and his heart hammering in his chest. “You’re doing so well. A little more, darling-“

Chanyeol sobs, thrusting his length into Minseok’s fist, completely ready to just _ come. _

Then, Minseok lowers his head, his pretty pink lips wrapped around the head of his cock, tongue swiping over the slit, and he stood no chance. Chanyeol cries as he comes, thrusting into his mouth and spilling all over his lips, his tongue, his whole body on edge. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” he says, blushing as he comes down, but Minseok pulls back, white dripping down the corners of his lips, and he simply swipes it with his thumb, bringing it all into his mouth. Chanyeol’s throat dries instantly as he watches him. 

“Yeollie, my baby,” Minseok says, standing up, smiling. “Don’t be sorry. You were _ exquisite.” _

Chanyeol doesn’t know why he always says things like this. Things that can’t be true, and it’s a little embarrassing, but. The way Minseok looks at him, so _ softly _ and with so much tenderness, like the moment before he leans down to kiss him, sharing the taste of his come with him, it all makes Chanyeol feel so special, like he really is worth so, so, _ so _much to him. Wants to hold him close, wants cuddles, fool himself a little longer into thinking this all means something.

“Can, um,” he tries, and his whole face is pinking up. Just had a tongue in his ass, and _ of course, _he feels shy about asking for hugs. 

“What is it, baby?” Minseok says, patient, so patient, eyes bright. 

He swallows, tries to get the words out. Tries again, and again. And he can’t, his face too hot and heart beating too hard.

So, like the little baby he knows he is, maybe the slightest pathetic but he doesn’t care anymore, he reaches out with his arms, pouting, trying not to look so pitiful even though he knows he is.

Minseok, being the kind, wonderful person he is, doesn’t laugh, or react aside from the warmest smile, before he gets up off the floor, and lifts Chanyeol up from his seat, moving to his own and bringing him to his lap, arms around him and tucking his face into his neck.

Chanyeol whimpers quietly, just to himself, so warmed and calmed as he’s cradled in Minseok’s arms, burrowing in deeper to his steady, quiet warmth.

.

Milan is beautiful.

It is also chaos, right from the moment they get off the plane. 

Many of the garments have not yet arrived in time for the fittings, some of the more fragile pieces were damaged en route, the bags that were specially designed for the show are being remade because upon inspection, Minseok instantly remarked that they were not ready for the runway, and. A lot of other shit. 

Chanyeol watches from his perch on their _ fancy _ hotel room bed, the whole place a repurposed old Baroque style mansion with many of the original furnishings. It drips _ expensive _ and class and the bed as a _ canopy _ made from _ velvet _ and _ fucking silk, _the headboard is gold and they have a balcony that overlooks a beautiful, massive private garden and the suite is huge, but Chanyeol can’t really take it all in. Not when Minseok is looking distressed, pacing and Chanyeol is almost sure he’s wearing down the carpet (which also looks more expensive than his whole life) as he converses with his assistants on his phone. 

“The show is in _ three days, _ and you’re telling me all of this now,” he sighs, and he’s angry but calm and Chanyeol knows, _ knows, _ that now is not the right or appropriate time, but he’s _ hot as hell _when he’s being authoritative: firm and steaming but still respectful and isn’t that a sexy combination. 

Minseok speaks in a low tone, words fast, and he eventually sighs, saying, “Alright. Alright, this is not okay. But I know you’re doing your best. This cannot happen again, alright? I’ll be in tomorrow. Yes, early. It’s okay, I accept your apology, but we have to work hard for the next few days, yes? Alright.”

Firm, doesn’t shout at his employees, works hard with them, doesn’t blame them for mistakes they have no control over. Minse_ ok is so sexy. _

He sighs as he hangs up the phone, and he sighs again, thinking deeply, just standing there for a few minutes, and Chanyeol watches him, quiet. Not really knowing how to help, wishing he could do more. 

“Min?” he tries, and Minseok doesn’t look up, eyebrows still furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“I am, baby,” he sighs again, and he sounds tired already. Frustrated, when he says, “But I have to go to the studio tomorrow. Try to make some miracles happen.”

Chanyeol watches him, heart sinking the slightest bit. Tomorrow was supposed to be their free day. Minseok had plans to bring him around, and he supposes that he would buy him everything he set his eyes on, but. He doesn’t really care about any of that.

Minseok is going to be _ so tired. _

Minseok sighs again, and rubs his face tiredly, says in a quiet, steady but sorry voice, “Baby, I’m sorry. I know I was supposed to give you a good day tomorrow, I’m sorry-”

Chanyeol shakes his head frantically, gets up off the bed and goes over to his daddy. Cups his face gently, tilts his face up, and Minseok looks exhausted, just from a phone call, and Chanyeol feels helpless, seeing him like this. He leaves a small kiss to his mouth, telling him, trying to reassure him, “No, no. It’s okay. Please don’t be sorry.”

“I really wanted you to enjoy your time here,” he says, still sounding so apologetic. “Wanted you to have memories. Wanted to give you everything-”

“Like you don’t give me everything already,” he says, and Minseok shakes his head, looking disappointed in himself. Chanyeol lowers his head a little more so their foreheads are leaning against each other, just wanting him to feel a little better about the situation. “We can always have more memories,” Chanyeol tells him, touching his jaw, and Minseok sighs, leaning into him, resting his face against his chest.

Chanyeol blinks, and he _ blushes. _ He can’t help it; Minseok is always so gentle with him, just so _ soft, _ and often, it’s _ him _who Chanyeol depends on, cuddles up to, looks to for warmth. 

But _ now. _Minseok is hiding his face in his neck, embracing him, trying to find comfort in him.

Chanyeol hopes his heart isn’t beating too hard or fast. Hopes Minseok doesn’t feel it against where his cheek is resting.

“I’m disappointed,” Minseok says. “I had _ plans. _And now I can’t even bring you around properly.”

“They need you,” Chanyeol tells him. And, even though Chanyeol might need him too, _ wants _him, he doesn’t want Minseok to choose him when a lot of people are depending on him. For a good show, for their jobs, for things to be alright. 

Minseok sighs again, tilting his head up. Chanyeol sees the sadness, the disappointment in his eyes, and he doesn’t like it immensely. He kisses the space between Minseok’s eyebrows, over and over, until the crease lessens. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and Chanyeol just shakes his head, brings his hand up to brush back his hair, listening to him breathe. It’s quiet in the room now Minseok is off the phone, now that he’s standing still and things are calming a little. Chanyeol hopes, wants to give him a little more comfort. Wants him to be okay, hopes he can help in doing so. 

“Daddy. It’s okay,” Chanyeol says, kissing his forehead. Minseok closes his eyes, hums with each brush of Chanyeol’s lips on his skin, and Chanyeol swears his heart is about to beat right out of his chest and melt into a puddle right into his belly, all at the same time. 

“I don’t want you to waste your day, waiting for me,” Minseok tells him. “I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to come back, things at the studio will be busy. If, if you want, Yeollie, I have a friend, and he can show you around-“

He shakes his head immediately. It’s not a question. He tells him, “Thank you for offering, Minnie. But I don’t want to go around so carelessly when you’re working so hard.”

“But-“

“And truthfully, I don’t want to go around when it’s not you with me,” he says, blushing a little bit, but Minseok looks at him, his eyes so _ adoring, _and he leans up to kiss the dimple on Chanyeol’s cheek, so sweet and loving and Chanyeol leans into his kiss, and really. The idea of going around without Minseok is so unappealing. He might be stupid and doomed for heartbreak, but he will take every minute he can get with him, while he can.

So, it’s in that thought that he suggests shyly, “I. I don’t know if I’ll be a hindrance, or if I can actually do anything of help, but. Why don’t I go with you, tomorrow? To the studio?”

Minseok looks at him, eyes a little sad. “It’s not that I don’t believe you’ll be of help, Yeollie. But, it will be too hectic. It won’t be any fun, you might not have a good time.”

“I didn’t come to Milan to have a good time, I came here to spend time with you,” he admits, feels like his whole face is on fire, and he’s trying and failing not to pout too much. Minseok’s face softens at his words, and he goes on still, “And, I know you’ll be busy tomorrow, and the next few days. It might not be any fun, but. It feels wrong, for me to have fun. I want to help. Even if all I have to do is get you coffee or lug around fabric or be a live mannequin or whatever. I just want to make things a little easier for you.”

Minseok’s whole face _ glows, _his eyes shining, and he brings Chanyeol’s face down, kisses him so sweetly. Chanyeol feels his whole body melt, give in quietly, so, so soft. 

“Please don’t say no,” he says, pouts for good measure, and Minseok chuckles, kissing him again.

“How is it that you always know what to do, what to say, to make me feel better?” Minseok says, smiling so fucking tenderly, and. Chanyeol thinks the exact same thing of him. 

If only he could admit it freely.

.

Minseok had warned him on their way that it would be nothing short of chaotic, and it would be overwhelming. That it would be bedlam, and people might be snappish and in a frenzy to get shit done, and it would be best to stay close to him. 

He hadn’t been in the least bit joking. The second they arrive on the third floor of the beautiful building, sleek and modern and clean and sophisticated and initially intimidating but at most, maybe five stories high, prompting to Chanyeol to think it is what Minseok is in architectural form, it’s confusion and ordered commotion.

There are three assistants coming up to Minseok immediately; one with a small cup of espresso, _ “Double shot,” _they confirm when Minseok asks, another with a dossier and a separate sheet for the inventory for the show, and the other one with an immense folder full of swatches, asking him for his preference. There are around a hundred small squares of cut fabric samples, many of them looking to similar for Chanyeol to decipher any differences, but Minseok studies them for a moment, before pointing decisively at a clean white leatherette, his instructions concise and clear. 

“This is a whole thing,” Chanyeol breathes, nervous. Really, mostly terrified, but Minseok reaches for his hand, locks their fingers together. 

“Stay close to me, Yeollie,” Minseok says, “It can be a lot. Stay with me.”

“I might just get in your way,” he says, and Minseok looks at him, so seriously, before lifting up their linked hands and kissing Chanyeol’s knuckles. Chanyeol’s cheeks heat immediately, and even though the floor is hectic with bustling people, he’s sure many have them had paused, watching Minseok be affectionate with him. 

“No, darling,” Minseok assures him. He smiles, “Never in my way. Having you here, it motivates me.”

Chanyeol cannot. He steps in closer to him, wanting to kiss him, but he refrains, barely, knowing there’s a lot of work to be done and the very least he can do is motivate Minseok to get to it all. 

They’re ushered to an individual office type room with glass walls, and Minseok is immediately set to work, inspecting the damaged and the unfinished pieces, pursing his lips and sighing once in a while, but never groaning, never yelling despite his obvious frustration. 

The clothes, to Chanyeol at least, look nothing less than _ perfect. _Pieces for men, for women, clean lines but unique cuts in places he’d never think to put them. A blazer with the bottom of one side carefully slashed such that the fabric hangs, a purple velvet turtleneck with a triangle cut out of the back, a glittering, dark sheer top that leaves the back bare aside from wisps of shimmering lace. They’re all beautiful, but Minseok seems to find problems with almost every single piece, pouting them out specifically to the seamstresses and assistants taking down the notes, sending them off for immediate repairs. 

Chanyeol watches this all from the side, and as if he didn’t love Minseok immensely as it was. It’s not the first time he’s watched him work; with all the time he spent in Minseok’s place, he’s seen him sketch entire collections, sew on tiny beads by hand into custom jackets, and even embroider, _ by hand, _traditional Korean motifs into a satin bomber jacket. But it is certainly the first time he’s seen him so fully in his element, in a world he so clearly thrives in, kind despite the cutthroat nature of it all. 

Chanyeol is not only in love with him. He’s so _ proud _that he is by his side, even for these little things. Proud that Minseok would let him see all this.

“Baby,” Minseok suddenly calls to him, and he blinks, everyone in the room looking to him, but he focuses on Minseok despite his embarrassment. Walks over to him, and Minseok takes his hand, and the small smile on his face is so tender. “What do you think of this one?”

On the mannequin is an ensemble, a long, beautiful cape-overcoat piece with shining embroidery of tiger characters done with a lustrous thread, a thick knit sweater with a low, wide collar, cut-outs along the side, pants in matte black leather made with impeccable tailoring, and fuck. They’re _ gorgeous. _Everything is gorgeous and Chanyeol feels so out of place amongst so many pretty things. 

“I like it,” he says honestly. He doesn’t know much about fashion, and he doesn’t know what else he can say, but, “it must have taken a lot of work. And a lot of thought.”

Minseok’s expression softens. Then he tells him, “I’d like you to wear it for the show.”

“Oh, for when I attend?” he says, blinking innocently. 

Minseok gives him a small smile. “No, my darling. This is the first look. I’d like for you to walk down the runway.” 

And Chanyeol _ chokes. _“Huh?!”

Minseok’s smile widens, and he turns to the rest of the staff in the room, “Allow us a few minutes of privacy, if you please.”

They all bow, and leave the room, and Chanyeol’s brain is still reeling.

“You mean, me?” he chokes, blinking rapidly, face heating, “like. On the runway? In your show?”

“Yes, baby, exactly that,” Minseok says. His smile doesn’t falter. “I know you’d look incredible.”

“I. Minnie, I,” he says, but he doesn’t really know what he’s saying, after all. “Holy shit. Minseok. I’m not a model.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I was too excited, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. If you don’t want to, baby, it’s okay,” Minseok says, giving in too easily, and that’s not what Chanyeol means for at all. “The outfit is still yours. These were the very first pieces I designed for this collection, and. Well. It seemed that it was only appropriate for the person who inspired this ensemble, and every piece that followed thus, to open the show.”

He, _Minseok, _**_the _**_Kim_ _Minseok, _is blushing as he tells Chanyeol everything, and. His _cheeks _are _red _and hopelessly _adorable _and holy shit, _these _are the pieces _he _inspired. Everything so beautiful and impeccably crafted right down to the smallest bead, he had somehow contributed to, indirectly, by being Minseok’s muse.

_ Holy shit. _

“Daddy, you’re not being fair,” he whines quietly, curling into Minseok. Minseok chuckles, holding him close.

“I know. I’m sorry, baby,” he says, kissing his ear, and he’s so warm. Chanyeol closes his eyes, taking him in. In a place far away from home, surrounded by beautiful clothes and beautiful frenzy of a fashion house mere days away from showing at fashion week, he falls in love again despite himself. Minseok and his kindness, his sweetness overflowing and Chanyeol can’t help but sink in. 

“I don’t know how to turn you down,” he pouts, resigned to himself, and Minseok tilts his head down a little lower so he can kiss him softly.

“It’s alright, Yeollie,” Minseok tells him, still smiling, clueless, “I understand, it’s a lot to ask from you-“

_ “No, _ you dummy,” he huffs, and he takes Minseok’s face in his hands, shaking his head, and it’s _ wild, _because when they had first met, Chanyeol would never guess he’d be so comfortable with Minseok that he’d be able to call him a dummy and do this. 

He also never thought they’d reach a point where he’d be going with him to Milan, but they’re thoughts for another time. 

Minseok’s eyes are bright, confused when he looks up at him, and Chanyeol pouts at him, feeling embarrassed and cheeks pink when he says, “I’m saying. I’ll do it.”

Minseok’s eyes widen, and his whole face _ lights up _and as if a Chanyeol weren’t enough of a slut for his face. He holds back every urge to kiss him, waits for Minseok to say, disbelievingly, “Yeollie? Really?”

“Yeah,” he says, willing himself not to blush so much, saying, “I mean. It’s the least I can do. You’ve worked so hard and you’ve done so much for me.”

“I don’t want you to think it’s so that you would do favors for me,” Minseok says, so fucking earnest and Chanyeol doesn’t resist anymore, leans down to kiss him. “I did everything I ever did for you because I wanted to, and because I wanted to make you happy.”

“I know that,” he says, because Minseok isn’t ever the type to have ulterior motives. “I’ll do it, because I’m proud of all the work you’ve done so far and I want to be a part of it, and I know this will make you happy. All for you.”

It’s Minseok who doesn’t resist this time. Pulls down his face to kiss him, licking into his mouth and murmuring his gentle, _ “Thank you, baby boy,” _against his lips, over and over, and. Chanyeol won’t tell him, but for him, this is why he said yes. 

Because Minseok’s eyes are so _ happy, _and just to see him like this, eased and unguarded even for a moment, it is worth it. 

The rest of the day is typically harried, even more so than what Chanyeol had initially expected. He tries not to be so in the way, feeling very much like he is too outside of his element to be comfortable, instead, watching Minseok as he runs from room to room every other minute, sometimes with garments in his arms, sometimes whole bolts of different fabrics, different sewing materials, at one point, even a machine Chanyeol recognizes as a portable button-holer, all in his black leather, buckled Cuban heel boots and dark skinny jeans. Chanyeol imagines it can’t be very comfortable, but Minseok doesn’t stop working, only pausing occasionally to come over to him, asking how he’s doing, leaving after placing a soft kiss on his lips, and Chanyeol feels like his ears are in a perpetual state of deep pink for the whole morning.

He tries offering his help a few times, but Minseok just smiles, shaking his head and telling him, _ “I’m sorry for forcing you to give up your day,” _and Chanyeol shakes his head each time. It might not be the way he had pictured it, but he’s still here, with him, and he wouldn’t give up riveting work at the fried chicken shop and independent studio that made commercial jingles for anyone else. 

He’s not exactly bored, as there’s so much to take in, a frenzied beauty about everything that makes him all that much more appreciative for all the clothes he wears, but when there’s a knock on Minseok’s office’s door and Minseok’s right hand, Junmyeon, comes in, obviously fresh off a flight but still smiling, Chanyeol jumps out of his seat and almost tackles him to the ground with an aggressive cuddle, Junmyeon barely keeping them on their feet. 

“Junmyeon, thank _ Jesus,” _he whines.

“Hello, Chanyeol,” he says, tired, but still smiling at him kindly. “I heard you got here early. How have you been finding everything?”

“Everyone’s so pretty,” he says, blinking, and Junmyeon chuckles, but he _ gets _ it. “Everything is so pretty, but they’re all speaking either Italian or English so Minnie keeps speaking in Italian or English and it’s really _ hot _ but confusing and kinda hard to follow and I thought this was a _ Korean brand, _why are we the only Koreans here?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to explain that, either,” Junmyeon sighs, still smiling, discarding his coat to sit down. “Minseok whipping everyone into shape?”

“He’s doing so well, I want to suck his dick,” Chanyeol says frankly, and Junmyeon just laughs. When they had first met, it had been an accident. Junmyeon had walked into Minseok’s apartment with documents and contracts for Minseok to sign, and Chanyeol had his bare ass on the kitchen counter, Minseok standing between his legs, pistoning his cock in and out of his ass. 

It had been awkward as hell, and it took over a month before Chanyeol could look Junmyeon in the eye, or at his general vicinity. But, eventually, after a night where Chanyeol had overdone it on tequila and jager and Minseok had been abroad, Chanyeol crying and hiccupping about how much he wanted to ride Minseok’s cock and then kiss him goodnight and make him breakfast and say _ ‘I love you,’ _Junmyeon had become a good friend to him. Especially since Chanyeol did all this while dripping tears and snot and maybe some vomit on Junmyeon’s chest. It had been an especially effective icebreaker, strangely.

“Have you eaten?” Chanyeol asks him, and Junmyeon shakes his head. “Do you want me to get anything for you?”

“You’ve been here all morning, I’m suspecting you haven’t eaten either,” Junmyeon says, and. He’s not wrong. “Minseok must have been working non-stop, he tends to forget to eat when it’s fashion week season. We should get him some food, too.”

They go to ask him together, and Minseok ends up being in the sewing room, sat down in front of a machine and glasses on as he repairs the lapel of a black velvet blazer, boots off to the side and socked feet on the pedal as he guides the fabric along under the needle, his precision and focus singular. He almost blends in with all the other seamstresses and pattern-makers in the room, all working hard, all making no noise aside from the hum and zip of their sewing machines, if not for his green hair, and generally perfect face Chanyeol can’t stop looking at.

“Min,” Junmyeon approaches first, and Minseok looks up mid stitch, letting up on the pedal. He looks mildly surprised to see Junmyeon there, but says nothing aside from standing up to hug him. “You okay?”

“I’m okay,” he sighs, drawing back. Chanyeol swallows, and grazes his fingers against Minseok’s own, the tips of his fingers a little red from rubbing on so much fabric and all the sewing, and Minseok hums, linking their fingers together loosely. “You just got in?”

“Yeah, but I mostly slept on the way here, so I’m okay,” Junmyeon tells him. “You have to eat.”

“I don’t know if I have time for that,” he says, and Chanyeol’s chest aches for him. 

“You’ll be of no use to everyone here if you’re too exhausted and hungry,” Junmyeon tells him. “Chanyeol, tell him to eat.”

Chanyeol turns to Minseok, and pouts slightly. Brings up his hands, poking his cheeks gently, before brushing his knuckles against the skin under his eyes, “Please eat, Minnie.”

Minseok sighs, but leans against his hand, rubbing his cheek on his knuckles and finding some sweet solace. Chanyeol watches him, his kitten, and fully cups his cheek, feeling _ so much love _it’s kind of crazy.

“If, if it’s not too much trouble,” he begins to say, acquiescing, “the butter and parmesan risotto, from that small place in the corner-”

“I’ll get some bread and a wine to go with, then,” Junmyeon says, and gestures at Chanyeol to go with him. Chanyeol pouts again, but knows he shouldn’t distract Minseok for too long. Leaves after a prolonged kiss to his cheek, to which Minseok leans into and hums, _ purrs, _and he follows Junmyeon as they make a ten minute trek to the literal corner of the block, where a quaint, tiny, open-air bar with two tables on the street for outdoor seating.

Junmyeon knows the owners, obviously, as they greet him warmly, an older couple. One lady behind the bar, another clearing the table for them to sit and wait for their orders, and he makes quick work of it. Bread, Minseok’s risotto, a gorgeous scallop and clam pasta he recommends for Chanyeol, and a pepper and cheese pasta for himself, and a bottle of wine he names off the top of his head. Chanyeol stares at him all the while, wondering how he got here.

“You look worried,” Junmyeon says as they wait, and Chanyeol doesn’t deny it.

“It’s not like it’s my first fashion week with him,” he says. This is his second Fall/Winter collection with Minseok, and he’d watched him stress through a Spring/Summer season, as well. 

But it’s different. 

“It’s like,” he tries to begin, wondering what the right words are, “I don’t know. It’s the first time I’m really seeing him _ work. _ And I know he works hard, but I didn’t know that he really _ breathed _all this. It’s a different side of him.”

“He doesn’t usually let significant others go with him to work,” Junmyeon says, and Chanyeol tries not to let the blood go to his face, because he is _ not _a significant other. But Junmyeon says it so casually, he can kind of, almost, maybe, believe it, just a bit. “He becomes a whole other beast. I understand where you’re coming from.”

“I don’t want him to work himself ragged, is all,” he says, and Junmyeon hums. “It’s like he doesn’t even have a moment to breathe.”

Junmyeon takes a moment, thinking, before he says, “Maybe you can help him there, then.”

When they get back, Minseok is still at the sewing machine, but now working on a butterfly-sleeved jumpsuit of white hard satin, and Chanyeol literally takes a seat next to him, offering him bites of his food between stitches, and he aches a little more, watching Minseok work so hard, but still giving him small touches of reassurance and affection. Touching Chanyeol’s thigh after he cuts a loose thread after backstitching and closing the hem, or kissing the side of his palm after each bite Chanyeol holds out for him. 

He doesn’t talk much, but Chanyeol understands. Watches him as he goes through garment after garment, trying to get things done, working little miracles to pull off the big miracle.

Eventually, Minseok runs out of the sewing room when another one of the assistants comes in and tells him something in rapid English, the look on their face serious and worried, and Chanyeol is momentarily dazed, staring after him. Then, he stands and follows after him with a jug full of cold wine, and he can’t help but be worried, too.

He goes to stand near where Junmyeon is seated on a mobile stool with a polaroid camera in his hands, in front of what looks like a makeshift photo studio set up in the corner of the wide, brightly lit room. The office housing a long table with several garments scattered in organized chaos on the surface, several people gathered around, to Chanyeol’s surprise, Junmyeon’s wife Joohyun, decked out in an off-shoulder knit in mint green, tucked into wide pants of linen, Minseok with several pins in his mouth as he whizzes around her in a mobile chair, pinning here and there until he achieves the silhouette he wants. Chanyeol can tell from the furrow of his eyebrows, the slight frown of his mouth that he’s stressed again, and it sets heavily in his stomach.

“What’s happening now?” he asks Junmyeon, who sighs and takes a swig from the wine Chanyeol’s been saving for Minseok.

“The in-house models got drunk last night and somehow found themselves in France,” Junmyeon tells him. He shrugs his shoulders, as if to say, _ ‘as they do.’ _ Chanyeol blinks, because even though he knows traveling across countries in Europe is very much doable in relatively short periods of time, France is still _ a whole other country. _ “We needed them today to take some test shots and polaroid queue guides for the styling for the night of the show. She was supposed to go around the city today, but Joohyun was kind enough to help out for the shots. But I don’t think I prepped her enough. She looks overwhelmed.”

Chanyeol looks, realizes that doesn’t blame her; there are twenty looks alone for women, and while deceptively simple, Minseok’s pieces were complicated in form and pattern and putting them on always required assistance. Joohyun looks calm, but in the time Chanyeol’s known her, he’s seen enough to know she’s a lot like her husband; easily flustered but always trying to hide it either with politeness, dead stares, or jokes. 

It’s the former, for now, as she’s ushered to the backdrop, and Junmyeon guides her to stand in front of him, and he’s immediately taking shots, moving closer to take pictures of the details on the clothes, getting shots of different angles, from the side, the back, one hand automatically taking each photograph as it slides out of the slot and piling it up in his hand. 

To her credit, Joohyun looks every bit a model, beautiful and calm as she follows what Junmyeon asks for her. He’s kind of sure Junmyeon will take most of the pictures for himself once they’re done.

“Are you going to model the menswear?” Chanyeol asks him, and Junmyeon snorts as Joohyun is whisked away to be dressed into the next look. 

“We both know Minseok prefers his men at least a head taller than him,” he says. Chanyeol turns bright red. 

He leaves Junmyeon to take more photos of his wife for the next look for the runway, and goes over to Minseok, sitting blankly, tiredly. He turns the seat gently, until he’s standing between his spread thighs, and he tilts Minseok’s head up, feeling heavy at the bleary was in his eyes. 

“Sorry, baby,” Minseok speaks first, rubbing his eyes and trying to get the exhaustion out of it, and Chanyeol just holds his face. Steps closer, and blushes again when Minseok pulls him in flush to him, hiding his face against Chanyeol’s stomach, locking his arms behind him, just below his ass. They aren’t alone in the room, and they’ve always been so _ discreet, _but these past few hours have thrown all that out the window. 

Chanyeol finds that he doesn’t mind so much. 

“Want to take a nap?” he asks, fingers running between surprisingly soft locks of green, and Minseok sighs, shaking his head against his belly. 

“No time,” he says. “Still need to get to the menswear.”

Chanyeol pouts for him. He just _ knows _Minseok won’t be sleeping tonight, and it makes Chanyeol ache.

He leans down, and ignoring every other person in the room and deciding not to care about what they might think, he kisses Minseok, kisses him with every sweetness he can give him, just a small bit of comfort he can provide. He loves him so much, didn’t think he could any more than he did, but.

“My offer to be a live mannequin still stands,” Chanyeol tells him, and Minseok smiles, almost laughs, and embraces him. 

So Chanyeol is ushered by the assistants into stripping off his clothes in the corner of the room, and he’s blushing but tries to stay still for them as they get him into a sleeveless black vest with an array of buttons, so many that just looking at them he’s confused. To his credit, the assistants look confused as well, trying to figure out which buttons go into which hole, or if the buttons would go into any hole at all, and he feels his face just pink up even more, his chest feeling exposed as they murmur around him in a language he doesn’t understand.

“Allow me,” Minseok says in English, eventually standing and coming forward from where he had been watching in his seat, giving an assistant the pins and stepping in close to Chanyeol, reaching up to adjust the piece and button it up properly.

Somehow, Chanyeol feels more comfortable but that much more aware, all at the same time, as Minseok dresses him, and he feels his face heat up even more when Minseok asks quietly, “May I remove your pants, baby?”

Chanyeol blinks rapidly, face red, but he nods, and it’s decidedly the least sexy time Minseok’s ever asked him the question. Minseok is always respectful when he asks, and Chanyeol is never not comfortable with him, but he catches Junmyeon’s eye, and he resolutely looks up at the ceiling, embarrassed, as his pants are stripped and he’s helped into wide-legged wool trousers, intensely itchy, but he looks _ great. _

Minseok takes a moment to look at him, just looking, and Chanyeol shifts under his eyes, biting his lips, waiting for him to start pinning.

An assistant seems to think the same, offering the pins back to Minseok, but he pauses, and says, “No. There’s no need.”

Chanyeol blinks as he’s guided to the backdrop, where Junmyeon tells him to relax and pose, immediately taking shots as he says to Minseok, “If you’re implying something about my wife since you needed to pin her into the clothes, Min-”

“Your wife is beautiful,” he says, eyes set on Chanyeol, gaze unflinching. “But these clothes were made for my baby.”

Chanyeol tries not to make a sound, but he’s so _ warm _and happy, feels like he’s like the sun, when Minseok looks at him. Like he’s full of light.

“And _ you _ don’t think you’re _ everything _to him,” Junmyeon says under his breath as he takes picture after picture, just loud enough for Chanyeol to hear, and Chanyeol’s ears go red. 

Minseok helps him again to remove the vest, unbuttoning it quietly, and Chanyeol does his best to stay still for him, feeling his gaze on his skin. He can’t help but want to hold him, his chest so tight with _ feelings _ and he’s grossing himself out with how much he’s _ feeling _and fuck, he loves Minseok so much, the words right on the tip of his tongue.

He knows he’s pathetic, but he stays quiet, trying to think of nothing. 

“Lower your head, please, baby,” Minseok tells him once he gets all the buttons done, and Chanyeol follows, waiting for Minseok to pull the garment off over his head. 

He’s surprised, then, when Minseok’s soft lips are on his, just for a moment, the gentlest brush that makes him jump slightly, eyes wide. Minseok smiles at him, tired eyes shining as he’s touching his chin before pulling the vest over Chanyeol’s head, moving on to his pants.

“You’re so cute, I don’t know what to do with myself,” Minseok says softly, leaning forward to kiss his naked chest briefly, and Chanyeol feels himself _ melt, _covering his face with both of his hands, happy and embarrassed.

“He’s very handsome,” one of the assistants says, and Chanyeol may not speak or understand English very well, but he understands more than enough when Minseok replies to them with, “I’m very lucky, aren’t I?”

It makes Chanyeol _ burn, _ because really. _ He’s _ the one who’s lucky, to have someone, to have _ Minseok _in his life, even just up until this capacity.

.

Minseok works, almost nonstop, the rest of the afternoon, well into the night. 

Chanyeol had done his best, being a placeholder for the models and mannequins, running around getting things Minseok might need and going out again with Junmyeon and Joohyun to get him dinner, but even then. It still feels like he’s not doing enough for him.

He doesn’t know how Minseok does it, working and working so _ tirelessly _for hours. Chanyeol tries his utmost to stay awake, keep Minseok company, but he still ends up dropping off, closing his eyes one moment to blink, not even realizing he’s fallen asleep, so tired. 

When he wakes, it’s too Minseok brushing his hair, smiling softly. The lights are low in his office, and outside the windows, it’s dark. 

“Hmm, sorry,” he mumbles, sitting back up from where he’d slumped down in the loveseat, rubbing at his eyes. 

“You’re alright, Yeollie,” Minseok says, sitting next to him, setting his hand on his thigh. “Just didn’t want you to sleep in that posture, your neck will be aching later on.”

“Hmm,” he hums still, blinking to get himself a little more awake and to take in his surroundings, and Minseok. He looks tired, very obviously not having had a wink of sleep at all, but his smile is soft, eyes tender for him. Chanyeol loves him a lot. “What time is it?”

“Just after four in the morning,” Minseok answers. Chanyeol winces for him, heads the exhaustion and stress in his voice. “Go on, get some more sleep.”

“No, I’m okay,” Chanyeol says, because he’s sure he’s more refreshed than Minseok is. Wants him to get even just a little rest, so he says, “Daddy. You should sleep.”

Minseok smiles sadly, reaching up to cup Chanyeol’s cheek, and he tells him, “There’s still things that need to get done.”

“You’ve been working so hard,” Chanyeol tells him, and he curls in against Minseok’s steady, strong body, resting his head against his shoulder and burrowing further into his neck. He looks up, pouting, and Minseok just smiles for him, even more tenderly. “Rest, please? Even just a little?”

“I still need to take care of many things,” Minseok says, sighing, but he looks like he wants to rest too. 

“You’ll feel so much better after a power nap,” he tries, kissing the bit of his throat he can reach. “It aches a little, seeing you so tired.”

“It aches even more, knowing you wasted a day here,” Minseok says, and Chanyeol shakes his head, sitting up, kissing him. 

“Don’t think that way,” he says. Pouts for him. “I want to be here with you, for you. I’m okay. And I promise, I’ll feel even better if you sleep, just for fifteen minutes. I promise I’ll wake you up.”

“Oh, aren’t you sly,” Minseok chuckles, and Chanyeol smiles, fluttering his eyes repeatedly, until Minseok is chuckling more, letting Chanyeol kiss his cheek, his lips lingering.

“Daddy, please,” he pouts again, makes his eyes _ glisten. _

Minseok sighs, but he leans against Chanyeol’s palm when his cheek is held, so soft and pretty despite the intimidating, rich, shimmering copper shade on his eyelids lined carefully with a dark line. Chanyeol cannot help but kiss his nose, pinch his cheek softly, adoringly. 

“Just fifteen minutes,” he says, and Chanyeol beams smugly as he guides Minseok to lay his head on his lap brushing back his hair as he slowly lulls him to sleep. “You promise to wake me up?”

“I promise,” he says, bending down to kiss Minseok, “sleep, daddy,” then he kisses him again for good measure. 

Minseok smiles gently, and curls against him, and he’s such a large character, Chanyeol has always thought. He seems so much bigger than life because of who he was, how he acted, what he did, and his personality was always so much bigger than his body. 

But now, head on Chanyeol’s lap and legs curled up easily on the cushions, he’s _ small, _reminding Chanyeol of his size. 

It doesn’t take much for Minseok to fall asleep, and Chanyeol imagines even just a small bit of Minseok’s stress and exhaustion seeps out of him, sinking down to Chanyeol’s thighs. He hopes he can be a balm for him, give him that moment to breathe, someone to depend on a little, even for just this.

It’s quiet, and Minseok sleeps, curling into him. Chanyeol watches over him, sweeping back his hair, hoping he’s comfortable, hoping he’s doing enough to give him some calm. 

Eight minutes pass on Chanyeol’s timer when someone enters the room; he looks up to see Junmyeon in a fresh change of clothes, looking tired but otherwise a little more alive than he had been when Chanyeol was last awake. He nods, seeing Minseok on his lap, bringing a chair over nearer to where they are. He sits, and it’s then that Chanyeol sees the three cups of coffee he has with him. 

Chanyeol smiles, thankful, as Junmyeon sets two of the coffees on the table for them to drink later, taking his own and sipping from it deeply. 

“You got him to sleep,” he says. He sounds impressed. “He’d usually power through.”

“That’s not healthy,” Chanyeol says, stilling when Minseok stirs. It very much feels like a cat is sleeping on him, and he does his best to stay still for them. “Not even a nap?”

“He’s the one who wakes everyone up from their naps,” Junmyeon tells him. “It’s nice to see him sleep.”

“He looks like a cat,” Chanyeol says, smiling. 

“He looks good even when he sleeps,” he sighs. “I was hoping he’d be a total troll. Shame, I would have wanted some blackmail material on him.”

Chanyeol pauses from where he’s brushing Minseok’s hair. He blinks as he looks at Junmyeon, says, “Well. You know about _ me, _don’t you?”

Junmyeon snorts, “Give yourself something credit, Chanyeol. Having you as a sugar baby and getting to wake up next to you in the morning will never be a bad thing.”

Chanyeol blushes deeply, is so sure his whole face is red. He looks down resolutely, trying to focus on Minseok, not seeing the way Junmyeon smiles at him, at both of them. 

“How are you finding everything?” he asks him, and Chanyeol takes a moment to think about it. “Seeing Minseok work in his element?”

“He’s sexy as hell,” he says, and Junmyeon just smiles. “He’s working so hard. I mean, he always works hard. But now, it’s different. I don’t know. I don’t want him to overwork himself, but seeing him create all this, all these _ beautiful _things. I, I don’t know. I can’t help but love him so much more.”

Junmyeon watches him, listens well. Then, after taking a long sip from his coffee, until just a small amount remains in the cup, he says, “May I speak frankly, Yeol?”

Chanyeol looks at him, a little apprehensive at his serious tone. He doesn’t know what Junmyeon will say to him, if he’ll call him out for distracting Minseok or. Or something worse, like tell him to stay away, that his emotions and feelings will come up fruitless. But he nods, reaching down to hold Minseok’s hand for comfort. 

He doesn’t expect for Junmyeon to say, “Thank you.”

Chanyeol blinks, confused. Doesn’t know why he’s being thanked, but he waits for Junmyeon to continue on to say, “I’ve known Minseok for a long time, and. He hasn’t been this inspired in _ years.” _

That doesn’t sound quite right, because Chanyeol doesn’t think he could have that much of an impact on Minseok’s life. Minseok has _ always _ been creative, always so _ brilliant _ and glowing, and Minseok has _ everything. _

“The last few collections before you,” Junmyeon begins to explain mv trying to think of the right words. “They weren’t. Well, the clothes were still good. But the people, the higher-ups, they weren’t very pleased. We still sold very well, but the collections were basic, they said. They looked too much like everything else.”

Chanyeol doesn’t know what to think of it all. He’s always thought of Minseok so _ above _all of this, above criticism and counting sales and pleasing other people. He thinks he really is, but. He didn’t know Minseok ever had a period where he wasn’t anything less than who he was now, unfaltering, unquestionably magnificent, cosmic in talent and ability and drive. 

“Now though, he's working so much harder,” Junmyeon tells him. “He’s always been the last one sewing, the first one to get to work, always setting the example for everyone else. But, the way things used to be, it was just. You know, for the sake of releasing another collection. Now, ever since you, it’s like he’s doing it for a reason, like he’s found joy in it again.”

Chanyeol stares at him, and his eyes begin to sting. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s kept his eyes open for too long, or if it’s because his chest is aching just slightly with a cruel bit of hope and making the tears gather. 

“I don’t know, Myeon,” he says quietly, and it’s all he says. 

Junmyeon just nods, sitting back in his seat and taking in the late hour, and they are quiet those remaining few minutes they have, before Minseok wakes and the organized chaos begins again. 

.

“Holy shit, you guys have a lot of money,” Chanyeol exhales when he and Minseok enter the venue for the fashion show, an abandoned warehouse, but almost every inch of the interiors have been fixed with mirrors, and it feels massive, looks immediately impressive. 

“The company is the one with money,” Minseok says, and it’s early, sun having just risen, and he looks a little worse for wear, but his smile is bright, and Chanyeol would like to think it’s just for him. 

“You have a lot of money,” Chanyeol says, blinking at him. “I mean. You. I’m, you. You’re my _ sugar daddy,” _he says under his breath, making a Minseok laugh quietly. “I’m your baby, if. If you don’t earn a lot, how do you buy all those gifts for me and afford to bring me here?”

“I have money, baby,” Minseok tells him, his smile so pretty, the gold on his lids so decadent and Chanyeol tries not to kiss him every other minute, impossible. “Not much, but what I have, I _ love _spending on you. For you.”

“Minnie, no, you should be spending for yourself,” Chanyeol says, pouting at him, but Minseok reels him in, locking his arms around him. 

“I _ am _spending for myself,” he beams. “Whatever I spend for you is very much a good investment for me.”

_ “Daddy,” _Chanyeol whines, feeling guilty, bottom lip jutting out even as Minseok kisses his dimple, trying to get him to calm.

“Minseok, stop teasing him,” Junmyeon tuts as he passes by them, saying as he disappears to check on the stage, “Don’t believe him, Chanyeol, he’s doing that humble rich thing. He’s rich, that apartment came from _ one _ collection’s worth of work _ alone.” _

Chanyeol stares at Minseok reproachfully, pouting sadly, and Minseok just leans up to kiss him, murmuring his apology. 

“Sorry, my darling,” he says sweetly, and Chanyeol tries not to fall for it, but Minseok kisses the tip of his nose, and _ fuck _ he’s so cute, so _ fucking good _with his words. “But I really would spend any money I have on you. I wouldn’t want to spend it any other way.”

“Stop sweet-talking me,” Chanyeol frowns, trying to be strong. But, typically, because all Minseok has to do is be himself, looking at him the way he always does, with those soft eyes and gently curled lip, he gives up, leaning down to kiss him himself, his mouth so soft and tasting a lot like home. It’s a little terrifying, how much he would give up for him.

“Lovely, my lovely, beautiful baby,” Minseok says, and his face is so _ wonderful, _ his heart even _ better, _Chanyeol can’t take it. Kisses him again, making himself small, but Minseok. Minseok never makes him feel less, or small; treats him like a king, though Chanyeol often feels like he does much too little in return. “Hmm. I need to go see the final runway layout, but let me bring you backstage first-”

“No, it’s okay,” he says, not wanting him to waste too much time just for him. “I’ll find my way there. You still have a lot to do.”

Minseok is the one who pouts this time, and it’s dangerous, how _ cute _he is, how little he needs to do for Chanyeol to melt and do whatever he asks. 

He’s about to give in, when Junmyeon yells, “Min! You should check out the ceiling display, it seems like they have the wrong sky aesthetic.”

Chanyeol feels Minseok’s sigh, right against his chest, and he kisses his forehead, trying to make him feel a little better. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, my baby,” Minseok says, and he brings Chanyeol’s head down, kisses him sweetly, in full view of staff, workers and models coming in. Chanyeol would care, but he doesn’t; he’s over it, because Minseok is so, so beautiful, and to be given a little of his light. What a treasure.

Finding backstage is easy enough. Follow where the most hectic sounds are coming from, and he finds himself backstage, where models are flitting in and being taken to makeup and hair, and he blinks at everything, trying not to get too overwhelmed right away. 

“Chanyeol?” someone says to him, and he turns, seeing a handsome man with ash gray hair and perfect makeup. “Minseok told me to take care of you. I’m Jongwoon, I’ll be doing your hair and makeup.”

“Ah, alright,” he says, bowing politely, then he’s lead to the vanities and makeup chair and he sits on an empty seat in front of a mirror, told to wait for a bit while Jongwoon checks the styling instructions and queues. 

He looks at himself in the mirror, and he looks nervous, and even more tired than Minseok though he had gotten more sleep. He taps his face, and tries not to think or dwell on the constant _ ‘oh shit oh shit oh shit I’m really going to go on a runway I’m going to model actual clothes holy shit oh fuck what did I get myself into why do I _ ** _love _ ** _ him so _ ** _much _ ** _ what the fuck,’ _and there’s a lot of people around. But he feels lonely, wants to see Minseok again. 

It doesn’t really help that the person seated next to him is so pretty, so beautiful that Chanyeol somehow feels his inferiority even more. He’s sure that this person is an anime character come to life, the prettiest eyes and plushest lips and unfairly balanced body proportions, and something about him looks so _ familiar, _ and Chanyeol can’t place it if he had _ actually _seen that face in animated form, or. Something.

The person catches him looking, and Chanyeol startles when he smiles warmly, if a bit shyly. “So, you’re first look?”

Chanyeol blinks, before he nods. “Yeah. Um, how’d you know?”

“It’s right there,” he nods his head to the photo Jongwoon tacked on to the mirror, a picture Junmyeon had taken of him just the other day, a small post-it with the number _ 1 _written haphazardly tacked over where Chanyeol’s face is. He’s a little thankful that his face is covered, though. Less to explain. 

“Ah,” Chanyeol says, not knowing what to say. “I, um. Truthfully, I don’t really do this. I’m. I’m doing it for Minseok.”

“Oh! So you must be the boyfriend Junmyeon was talking about,” he beams, and Chanayeol flushes, almost melts right to the ground. _ Boyfriend. _Sounds amazing, if only it were really true. “I’m Jongin, look number 19 and 40.”

“Ah, you’re the final look,” Chanyeol says, looking at the pictures posted up on Jongin’s mirror: 19, the mauve silk shirt that felt like _ money _on Chanyeol’s skin when he had worn it, cinched around the waist with a black obi corset belt, tucked into black trousers with a black sequined panel along the sides. 40, the white suit with the hanging bottom panel that exposed his belly, making him blush as Minseok simply patted his hip before sending him off for pictures, paired with the white overcoat with the train; Chanyeol had heard about a plan with doves and balloons to remove it on the runway, and he thanks quietly that Minseok gave him something relatively simple to wear. 

Looking at Jongin, he fully understands that a face like _ that _should be the final look. 

“I’ve known Minseok for a long time,” he explains, smiling. “I’ve been working with him even before he became the creative director, he’s always had a really good eye,” and Chanyeol suddenly remembers where he had seen his face before.

Kim Jongin, Gucci ambassador, 2-time Vogue cover model, and Minseok’s brand’s ambassador for their menswear, signature scent and luxury makeup, and accessories line. 

His face is literally _ all over _the print and online advertisements, billboards, storefronts. Chanyeol feels very stupid and all the more inferior now. 

“I was surprised to hear from Junmyeon that he was dating someone,” he says, and Chanyeol _ gets it. _He doesn’t know how he’s been this lucky to have Minseok in his life, either. “Please don’t misunderstand me, he’s always just been so focused on work.”

“He still is,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin grins. “These past few days, he’s hardly slept.”

“But he looked like he liked the work he was making, right?”

Chanyeol blinks, and he didn’t really think of it that way when it had been happening. But, looking at it now, remembering the way Minseok seemed to _ revel _ in everything, interact with all his pieces so personally, shape it all right from his hands, the _ passion _ Chanyeol had seen from him, subtle though it may be to everyone else, but. He could see it. He _ saw it, _felt it. 

“Minseok has always been great. His creativity and craftsmanship are really something else,” Jongin says. “And he’s always been so humble, so kind. But there was a point where he just seemed so _ disenchanted _with everything.”

“‘Disenchanted?’” and Chanyeol doesn’t think he’s ever seen Minseok like that. But Jongin, Junmyeon, are telling him things he didn’t know he had such an impact on. He doesn’t really know what to think of it.

“Like, before, he was just working because it was his job,” he explains. “But now, he’s really like this creator of beautiful things and he looks it, you know? He looks like he’s doing it because he loves it. And, maybe, it has something to do with you.”

And Chanyeol blushes again, feels like there haven’t been many instances where he _ wasn’t _blushing, these past few days. “Um. I, I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“I’ve been working with him for a long time, I can tell you,” Jongin tells him, smirking quietly. “I see the difference.”

Chanyeol is flushed red, and he doesn’t know what to say, about what Jongin is telling him, about the hope blooming in his chest that is trying to rule over his logic reminding him that he’s _ just _a sugar baby, just someone Minseok spoils and sleeps with and kisses. He shouldn’t think or dwell on it too much, but. 

He’s saved from replying when Jongwoon returns with a folder, laying out specific styling instructions for each look. He reviews them briefly, before looking up again and smiling at Jongin, “Says here we’ll go for simple makeup for all the models. Just some pale pink on the eyes and glitter, hmm. Lip gloss, and, ah. We’ll need to spray your hair with a temporary lilac dye, Nini.”

“Alright,” he says casually, like having purple hair isn’t a big deal. With a face and body like that, Chanyeol would be pretty comfortable too; he’s sure nothing would make Jongin look bad. 

“He’s going for a gentle and powerful aesthetic this time around,” Jongwoon says, preparing to get Jongin’s hair ready. “He must be in love.”

Jongin glances at him, eyebrow curved and teasing lilt on his mouth, and Chanyeol wills himself not to turn pink. He _ cannot _afford to overthink all this, so he distracts himself by looking at the folder left on top of the dresser, trying to look for anything specific for his look. All he sees is the same instruction for his eyes, lips, and soft blush. But he looks about, sees that quite a few models are having their hair prepped for temporary dye, so he asks, “Um. What about me?”

“Hmm?” Jongwoon says, smiling kindly at him as he lays a cape over Jongin’s front as he preps his hair.

“Um. My hair?”

“Ah,” Jongwoon says, smiling a little more widely, a little more mysteriously. “I asked Minseok, since there were no notes for your hair color. He was quite succinct; your hair will go as is.”

Jongin glances at him again, eyebrow cocked and smirk on his face, and Chanyeol tries not to look at him, or at his reflection in the mirror, as he knows his entire face is red.

.

It’s a flurry, after. 

Makeup after the quickest lunch Chanyeol has ever had, then he’s being rushed into the outfit Minseok had so carefully crafted for him, and he looks _ too good _and he really feels like he isn’t meant to be here.

He watches as Minseok runs around backstage, going to every model, checking their outfits and their makeup and hair, doing last minute alterations and never stopping, keeps on going.

But, Minseok stops when he sees Chanyeol, exhaling and looking at him, and giving himself a moment to breathe and take him in. Chanyeol flushes, shuffling over to him when Minseok gestures to him discreetly, and they go over to a more quiet corner where no one is paying much attention.

Minseok holds his hands, and his eyes are bright when he looks up at him. “Baby. You’re beautiful.”

“Stop,” Chanyeol knows he’s red all over, and it’s worse because he knows Minseok really, really means it. He always does, always calls him beautiful, but there is something about the way he says it now. With so much softness, so much _ warmth _ that Chanyeol feels like there is a sweetness dripping inside him, making him feel so _ adored _and he loves the feeling so much.

“Thank you, Yeollie,” Minseok says, and the way he says it. It’s like Chanyeol gave him the whole world. He doesn’t understand why Minseok treats him this way. “I know it’s asking a lot of you, to do this. It means a lot, truly. Thank you, baby.”

He shakes his head, because this is the smallest way he can ever show Minseok how grateful he is for him. Not just for the gifts, for the brain melting fucking, but for the wonderful words, the gentle respect, the way he always looks at him like he believes he is _ more _than what he is, the way he makes him believe it, sometimes. Slowly, truly believing it. 

“I’d do anything for you, you know,” he admits, and his ears are flaming, but he means it. 

The way Minseok looks at him, Chanyeol thinks it might mean everything to him. His whole face burns.

“I wonder,” Minseok says gently, before pulling down Chanyeol’s face, kissing his lips lightly, making Chanyeol’s cheeks burn hotter, “If you know.”

“Know what?” Chanyeol blinks, but Minseok stays quiet. Looks at him, before kissing him again, careful not to ruin his makeup. 

“Boss,” an assistant comes up to them quietly, nervously. “Sorry, but. One of the models got their zipper stuck on some embroidery.”

Minseok sighs inwardly, Chanyeol reading it from the way his eyes deflate, and he steps away after one last press of his lips to his.

“You’ll do well, my darling,” he says simply to Chanyeol, brushing the plumpest part of his bottom lip with his thumb, leaving with a small smile, and Chanyeol watches him leave with the assistant. 

_ ‘Holy fuck,’ _ he blinks back furiously, trying to calm his heart, his whole body on fire, chest _ aching. _

He wonders if Minseok can tell, how he feels about him. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know if. If Minseok is gently rejecting him, or. 

“Please get ready, we’re about to begin. Why are you here?” someone comes up to him, looking frantic and running around, and Chanyeol startles, gets into position, trying to gather his nerves, trying to not embarrass himself too much. Just wants to do his best for Minseok. 

It’s minutes. The chaotic hushed noise of backstage, getting everything together, the little miracles of Minseok’s work coming together, and the hum of the audience trickling in on the other side. 

The stage manager gathers them all. The lights go down, and the music starts. 

Chanyeol feels like he’s about to pass out. 

Minseok is near the entrance, watching over everyone. He catches Chanyeol’s eye, and gives him the most tender look, just for him, just between them. 

Chanyeol goes out, the skies above him on the screen just on the edges of dark, but the sun emerging just as if it were the minutes after a storm, a slow brightness that filters through. He keeps his face blank, and doesn’t think. Just walks, doesn’t see the godly amount of people in the room, watching him, scrutinizing the clothes on his body. He just walks, for Minseok, walks proud, because the man he loves is brilliant, and these people will see its fruits, see how much his mind shines. 

It’s over before he knows it. He’s back in, doesn’t have to scramble to get to a second outfit because Minseok has mercy on him, and he doesn’t have to think anymore. 

He sighs, exhales his relief, and goes to go sit and take a two hour nap, but before he can do anything, someone pulls him into a tight embrace. He jumps, but there are familiar lips on his and he melts into Minseok almost instantly, tasting comfort and gratitude and, he fools himself into thinking, _ love. _

“You are endlessly_ beautiful,” _ Minseok tells him quietly, kissing him again, deeply, getting lip gloss all over his lips, but he doesn’t seem to care, licking into his mouth in full view of his staff, his models, and Chanyeol is so flustered and happy altogether.

He curls into Minseok, just for a second, taking in his affection, reveling in it for a moment. Then, he makes himself push him away, to remind him that there is a lot to be done, a lot to be monitored. 

“Go,” he says, and Minseok’s eyes are still affectionate, but darker, and Chanyeol can read it in his eyes, what he plays to do later.

His belly is warm with the thought. 

.

He doesn’t remember the rest of the night. Not the final walk with all the other models, not when Minseok keeps him close for the post-show interviews with the magazines and media outlets as he is praised endlessly and rightfully, as it was a _ glorious, transcendent _ showing, not when he himself gets asked many questions to his immense surprise and embarrassment when all he did was _ walk, _ not the after party that runs too long for both their liking. 

He doesn’t remember anything other than him and Minseok stumbling back to their hotel room in the dark early hours of the morning, licking furiously into each other’s mouths and marking each other’s skin and moaning and pushing their hips together. Chanyeol whimpers into Minseok’s mouth wetly, his cock stiffening in his pants, and he feels Minseok’s cock get hard too against his, and he’s scrambling to get them naked, to spoil each other with touches and kisses and fill each other, get filthy. 

“I’m never doing that again,” Chanyeol breathes, tearing at Minseok’s clothes, throwing back his head as Minseok scrapes his teeth down his throat, soothing his skin with his tongue as he goes.

“Ah, but my baby, you were so _ captivating,” _ Minseok praises him, his words seeping into Chanyeol’s skin, making him shiver as Minseok pulls him in closer, slipping his hands beneath his pants, _ squeezing _his ass, and Chanyeol mouths hotly at his ear. “Everyone kept asking who you were, you were beautiful.”

“But, _ ah,” _he moans as Minseok pushes their hips together, licking up his jaw. “I’m. I’m not a model-“

“Look like one, baby,” Minseok tells him, his lips so _ plush _ and _ soft _and a Chanyeol cannot stop sucking on them, taking them into his own mouth. 

“But. There are people who work really hard just to get booked,” Chanyeol says, shucking off the coat easily when Minseok guides him too. “It would be really wrong to take something that other people have worked really hard for.”

“Oh, my baby,” Minseok says, pushing him down to the bed, pulling down his pants and underwear and stripping out of his own clothes as Chanyeol wrestles with his, but the sweater is proving difficult. He doesn’t know which body part goes out where, and Chanyeol struggles with one arm free, the left side of his chest and back exposed as he tries to get the rest off his body. 

He gives up, however, the moment lowers his naked body on top of his and _ grinds _ their cocks together, and Chanyeol cries out, his belly hot and length achingly hard as Minseok rubs them together, their cocks sliding against each other, dry but _ so, so good. _

“My smart, humble, hardworking, _ gorgeous _ baby,” Minseok says, procuring lube out of nowhere and pouring some all over his fingers, warming it up for his hole. Chanyeol whines, moans as his back arches when Minseok pushes the first finger in, and though it’s really just been a few days since they’d last fucked on the plane, it feels like it’s been _ too long. _ “I felt so immensely proud, to have you by my side, to have been with you. So _ beautiful.” _

“Daddy, _ fuck,” _Chanyeol cries, willing his hole to loosen, take the fingers Minseok sinks into his ass, and his whole body feels like it’s on fire, like with every touch, he’ll melt into nothingness. 

“Baby,” Minseok breathes, kissing him heatedly as he fingers him open, two fingers into three, plunging them hard and fast into Chanyeol’s ass. “Baby-“

“Ah, _ ah,” _ Chanyeol thrashes his head around, overwhelmed, hearing and feeling nothing but the loud, obscene squelch of Minseok stretching him open for his cock, and he’s about to lose his mind. “Fuck, _ fuck me, daddy, fuck me-“ _

Minseok grips his hips, turning him over to all fours, and Chanyeol can barely think, just wants Minseok’s cock inside him. He whines, endlessly, louder and louder, until finally, _ blessedly, _ Minseok lifts him up to his hands and knees properly, and _ sinks _his thick, sinful, slicked up cock into his hole, right into his body. 

“Fuck! _ Fuck,” _he cries, shouts, every noise he makes carried out the open door to their balcony, and he whines as Minseok establishes a beautifully punishing pace right away. His cock, so hard it makes Chanyeol’s mouth water with every push into his ass, and the quiet, private moans Minseok feeds into his ears, his hands hot and gripping his hips tight as he brings his ass back to his driving cock. 

“Oh, baby, you are so fucking _ tight,” _ Minseok says, one hand moving down to _ squeeze _and roll his ass in his palm. Chanyeol sinks lower down, unable to stare out at the dark calm of Milan outside their balcony, muffling his cries instead on the covers of their bed as his ass is plowed. 

“Y-your cock, _ fuck,” _he can barely breathe, Minseok’s hips slapping against his ass as he hammers into him, filling him up, and he squeezes around him, wants to be so good. “Fill me up, daddy. Give me your cock.”

“Such a sweet, sweet ass,” Minseok hums, his time so low and obscene but still so affectionate, his palms hot where they slide down to his ass, and he spreads Chanyeol’s cheeks further apart, watching where he’s ramming into him, making him take his cock.

Chanyeol can’t breathe. Lifts his ass up higher, needing Minseok to wreck him and fuck him, feeling like such a slut for him, willing and so, so greedy for his cock. He grabs at the covers, crying out as Minseok rails into him, and he’s biting at the duvet, drooling and making the neediest, desperate noises, but the slick, _ filthy _sounds of their bodies meeting the loudest of all, echoing in their expensive room and making Chanyeol leak.

“Delicious boy,” Minseok praises him, and Chanyeol moans again, spilling slightly at the tip, spreading his legs further apart to give him _ more _ of himself. Wants to give him everything. “Feels like you’re sucking me in, your ass is _ so hungry _for it, fuck.”

“Fuck me, fuck me as hard as you can, _ need your cock,” _ he says, throat feeling wrecked, and he throws his ass back on Minseok’s length, meeting him as he pistons his cock into his ass, cramming him full and leaving no space for everything else. Everything is so heated, so _ hot, _ and Minseok is _ so deep _this way, slamming into him from behind, his thick cock making him whole. 

He can’t get enough, and he’s so greedy, gasping and crying out as he’s fucked. Wants more, and his hard cock swings beneath him as Minseok sinks into him, thrusting harder and harder. 

“Daddy, get on your back,” he says between breaths, his heart beating hard with exertion, reaching back and pushing at Minseok’s hips until he pulls out. Makes him lay back, and sits on his lap with his back to him, wanting to give him everything. 

“Baby, you’re spoiling me,” Minseok says, smirk clear in his tone, and Chanyeol turns his head to accept the kiss Minseok offers him, lips wet and tongue hot in his mouth. He’d spoil Minseok in any way he can, and if it involves _ this, _then he wins too. 

“Let me make you feel good,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok says in return easily, _ “You always do, baby.” _ He makes him lay back on the pillows, and turns to raise his hips, letting Minseok’s cock slide between his ass cheeks, and he’s so _ hard, _so thick, Chanyeol can barely breathe. 

He lifts his ass, and sinks down on his length, and he’s in _ deep, _until Chanyeol is so sure that he can feel him jut out against his belly. 

“Oh, my baby,” Minseok moans behind him, and Chanyeol can almost see it: the way his ass opens up for him, his pink hole stretched around his girth, his hole taking him in, cock disappearing into his baby boy’s body. “You look so good.”

Chanyeol can’t stop himself from _ fucking himself _ hard on his cock. It barely takes moments before he’s bouncing on his lap, bouncing his ass and letting their skin slap together as his ass swallows up his cock, and he feels _ amazing. _

“Fuck, so fucking _ thick,” _he moans, bringing his arms up and pulling hard on his hair as he pumps his hips. Minseok croons out as he rides him, hands on his hips and taking in the sight. 

“You’re _ beautiful, _darling,” he says, “Taking my cock. My baby.”

_ “Fuck, I’m your slut,” _ Chanyeol gasps, cries out as his belly gets hotter and hotter, leaning forward and _ throwing _ his ass out for him, fucking himself like he can’t get enough. Feels so fucking _ slutty, _ spreading his own ass and exposing his hole for Minseok to take in, whining endlessly to let him know how _ good _he feels, how he’s making him feel. 

His chest shakes with how hard he fucks himself, with how loud he screams, with how deep Minseok’s cock drives up into him. His belly is swirling _ hot, _ and his balls feels so _ full, _and his cock is so hopelessly hard, smearing white precome all over his thighs, all over the sweater Minseok worked so hard to make. 

But Chanyeol can’t think about that, not when Minseok sits up suddenly, pulling his body back so that his back is against his strong chest, and Chanyeol whines, turning his head so Minseok can kiss him, lick across his teeth and murmur filthy words of praise into his ear. 

“My baby, such a good little _ slut,” _ Minseok says, and Chanyeol _ wails, _ rocking and slamming his ass down on his cock. Minseok makes him spread his legs even more, bringing his knees up and his feet flat on the bed, and being so exposed, spread open like this would embarrass Chanyeol, but. Minseok _ fucks _ into him from below, their bodies meeting in a loud audible slap, and Chanyeol _ screams, _his ass pounded and rammed into and he begins to cry, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as Minseok hammers into him. 

“Daddy!” he sobs, feeling _ so good, _ like he’s been lit up and his whole body on fire in the best way. “Oh _ god, _ oh fuck, _ daddy, _love your cock, love it in my ass, spearing me open-“

“Baby, being such a good little _ slut _ for me,” Minseok licks his ear, hooks one hand beneath either of Chanyeol’s knees, stretching him even _ further, _ making him _ fucking take it. _ Chanyeol is about to lose his mind, sobbing and gasping and moaning as Minseok _ destroys _his ass. 

“Daddy, gonna come,” he moans, feeling so _ close, _ throwing his head back over Minseok’s shoulder as he’s fucked, harder and harder still. He whines, turning his head to kiss and mouth at Minseok’s neck as Minseok _ drills _into him from below, his cock plunging in and out of his hole.

Then, without warning, Minseok lifts him up, making him yelp as he turns him back over to his front, keeping his legs spread. He doesn’t miss a beat, _ slamming _ his cock back into his ass and railing him, and Chanyeol cries out as his body is used so _ well, _chest flat against the bedding and cock rubbing against the sheets, further with each rock of Minseok’s length into him.

“Baby, _ baby, _I’ll fill you up until you’re leaking,” Minseok says right against his ear, his hands soft on Chanyeol’s back beneath the sweater as he fucks him. 

That sounds _ amazing, _ and Chanyeol whimpers, moaning his assent as Minseok thrusts into him faster, harder, and then Minseok is pinning his head down on the pillows, fucking him _ roughly, _his asscheeks shaking with the pounding he gives him. 

“Daddy,” he cries, sounds muffled into the pillow, his wet face pressed flat on the covers as his ass is _ wrecked, _ and Minseok doubles his pace. He drills into him, his cock so thick and fucking him so open and loose, and he can’t hold himself back when Minseok leans down, murmuring, _ “Come for me, baby, let me see you lose control.” _

He shouts, the pillow doing little to muffle his voice as he _ comes, _crying as he shoots himself all over the bedding, coming from the rubbing of his cock against the sheets and Minseok’s cock plunging deeply into his ass alone. He cries again, the tears falling down to the pillows as he begs, “Come inside me, please, daddy, plug me up-”

“Oh, my _ baby,” _Minseok turns his head, leaves the most steaming kiss on his mouth as he stills his hips, buried in his ass as he murmurs soft, filthy words of praise in equal measure in Chanyeol’s ear. 

Chanyeol whines, spent but his blood singing, pleasure and relief and euphoria in his veins, but he still wants more. “Daddy, come inside me,” he mumbles, tired but squeezing his ass around his cock, and he’s sensitive all over but he feels _ exhilarated. _

“You’re too good to me, my beautiful baby,” Minseok tells him, and really, it’s _ him _ who’s too good for Chanyeol. His chest shudders, and he rocks his hips back against Minseok’s cock, moaning at how much he feels, the sensations bordering on _ too much _ but he loves it, so much. Loves him, almost whimpers it when Minseok kisses him, licking into his mouth, before he leans back up and _ fucks him, _the power behind his hips pounding and slamming into his ass.

“Oh, fuck!” Chanyeol cries, clawing at the sheets for purchase as he sobs. “Daddy! _ Fuck, _ fucking _ use me.” _

_ “Delicious, _so fucking good, my baby,” Minseok’s voice like silk as he pumps into him, pistoning his cock into his fucked out hole, and he touches Chanyeol everywhere, his hands so hot against his skin, and he can barely take it. He can’t breathe, so overwhelmed as he’s fucked, Minseok’s cock reaming him out and he can’t stop crying. He doesn’t want him to stop ever, just wants him inside him, with him, for as long as he can have him. 

“Come, please come, fill me up,” he begs, sobs, “Give me everything-”

“Just for you, my baby,” Minseok slaps his ass ever so slightly, not in any way hard that it would hurt, but enough to give Chanyeol a jump that he so craves, making him cry out and clench around his cock.

He feels it, hears it when Minseok comes, gasping and moaning as he shoots inside him, giving it to him, rabbiting into his hole and pushing out desperate little whines out of Chanyeol’s lips. 

He whimpers as Minseok stops, breathing heavily together, and Minseok licks across his exposed shoulder, softly kissing his skin and rubbing his back comfortingly beneath the sweater that he thinks they might have ruined.

“My beautiful, wonderful baby,” Minseok says affectionately, honestly. Chanyeol feels himself blush, and he thinks it’s a little ridiculous. How he can so easily and willingly spread his legs and bounce on his cock, yet be so flustered with just a few words. “You did so well.”

Chanyeol whines, hiding himself as Minseok chuckles, pulling out of him and turning them to their sides, facing each other. He burrows his head, trying not to show himself as Minseok tries to kiss him, spoil him with his lips, and his ears turn red as the come leaks out of his ass, dripping and making him feel even filthier.

He’s exhausted, from the lack of sleep from the past few days, to the stress of the show, to the loudness of the party, but Minseok. Minseok had worked almost non-stop, and still had the energy to fuck the life out of him, ream him out and make him cry and scream, and Chanyeol doesn’t know how he does it. He doesn’t want to get tired any other way, just with Minseok’s cock, and he wants to be with him for however long he can be allowed. 

“I, ah, I can feel your come dripping out of me,” he says, feels his whole face burn as he says it, but he moans, reaching back and tracing his rim with a finger, feeling the wetness there.

He can feel Minseok’s eyes on him, dark, piercing, and he can see it. See him read his mind, his mouth parting slightly just to dart out his tongue and lick Chanyeol’s lips softly. He whimpers, pushing a finger into his abused hole, whole body twitching with want and sensitivity. He wants to be _ pushed, _ until he _ can’t take it. _

“What should we do then, darling?” Minseok asks him, and Chanyeol shivers at his tone, steaming, so silky. 

“Don’t stop,” he says, and it’s immediate. Minseok reaches over and drives three fingers up along with his into his ass, and he _ screams, _sobbing and whining and curling into him, wanting more, wanting the night to be longer, give them all her hours.

.

“Yeollie, baby, wake up.”

He grumbles, burrowing into the sheets, limbs flailing as he stubbornly does _ not _wake up.

Chanyeol is bone tired, sex tired, tired tired. Came four times, twice on Minseok’s cock and once in his mouth and the last time by his hand, crying as he _ still _begged for more, but Minseok calling it a night and telling him to rest, kissing him sweetly as he finally pushed him over the edge, stroking his cock his his hand, and Chanyeol had fallen asleep right after he came, his cock giving almost nothing out of exhaustion.

It feels like that had been minutes ago, his sleep feeling too short. But he feels MInseok brush back his hair, saying gently, “It’s almost two in the afternoon, my darling. We have a flight to catch later.”

He moans_ , _curling in deeper when he knows he should be waking soon. He hears Minseok chuckle, pressing the most tender kiss on his forehead, then a weight lifts off from the bed, and then, a sound of curtains rustling, then the room is bathed in bright sunlight.

“No, _ no, _make it go away,” he whines, covering his face with a pillow, and Minseok chuckles. 

“I want to bring you out for a meal at least once, before we leave,” Minseok says, and he lifts the pillow away from his face, and Chanyeol crosses his arms over his eyes, stubborn, and quietly anxious.

A flight, meaning their time here is over. Meaning he’ll have to go back to reality, keeping his feelings hidden, and the magic of this place will no longer be by their side.

He doesn’t want to leave. 

“Baby, come on,” Minseok laughs, “Let’s get dressed. We need to eat.”

“I’d rather you eat me,” Chanyeol whines again, sitting up to look at him, only for his body to fail him and making him flop forward again onto the foot of the bed. 

Minseok chuckles, not meanly, and Chanyeol squirms a little, limbs flailing as he tries to get up. He only manages to raise himself up on his elbows, closing his eyes against the afternoon sun, rubbing his eyes as the duvet warms his lower body.

It’s quiet, and Chanyeol sniffs, blinking slowly as he tries to wake himself up, rubbing his head and his eyes, curling in and burrowing into the warmth of the covers that smell of them. 

He makes himself small, bringing the covers over him, and he whines softly, the sound low and gentle as he tries to wake up a little more. The hairs on his exposed arm rise up with the soft air of the room, and he curls up his other hand, sweater paw and all, rubbing again to feel a little less sleepy. 

It’s so soft, everything around him, and as much as he tries, he can’t stop himself from sinking into it all. 

“Oh, my beautiful baby,” Minseok says, and his voice sounds a little breathless, a warm, gentle laugh leaving his lips, and then there is a weight above him, turning him over to his back and stripping the duvet off of him, and Chanyeol moans when lips trial down his neck, over his collar bones, then over his lips, licking in gently. 

“Hmmm,” he moans sleepily, but he opens his eyes just enough to meet Minseok’s tender gaze looking down at him, smiling so affectionately just for him. 

Oh, Chanyeol loves him so much. There is so much warmth in his chest, in his heart, and he puckers his lips, cupping his face with his hands, and Minseok chuckles, giving in easily, kissing him deeply. 

Minseok takes his hands, lacing their fingers together, and kisses Chanyeol’s palms. Chanyeol watches him with the blush high on his cheeks, wanting _ so much _ to give himself to him, every part of him for Minseok to keep. 

“What is it, daddy?” he says, voice still slightly scratchy from sleep, but when Minseok trails his lips up his throat, achingly soft kisses left in their wake, Chanyeol purrs, feeling so warm and adored under his body. 

“You’re being a little brat, baby,” Minseok chuckles, and Chanyeol would make his case, but he’d rather have more kisses for now. He puckers his lips again, making guppy noises, and Minseok is easy to comply, spoil him with plenty, one after the other. “Hmm, a beautiful, _ insatiable _brat. My brat. So, so beautiful in this light. Every light.”

Chanyeol sighs into his mouth, feeling so _ content _and wrapped up in this little happiness, and he wraps his arms around Minseok’s shoulders, pulling him down, wanting to get even closer. 

“What are you going to do about it?” he taunts a little, and then he’s gasping quietly as Minseok spreads his legs, taking both their lengths in his hand, stroking slowly. 

“Hmm, I suppose a meal can wait,” Minseok grins, licking down his throat, and Chanyeol shakes, moaning and he’s so _ tired _ and his lower back and his thighs and _ jesus _ his ass, his _ hole _ all ache, sensitive and fucked out still hours later. But, he pulls Minseok in, his cock hard already just from rubbing against Minseok’s, wanting him inside him again, wanting to be filled. 

“Hmm, lay back, baby,” Minseok tells him, kissing his cheek adoringly, his lips lingering. “I know I tired you out last night.”

“Please, I tired _ you _out,” Chanyeol huffs, and Minseok laughs, kissing him until he’s appeased. Truthfully, it only takes one, but Chanyeol pretends to be annoyed, for as long as he can, taking as many kisses as Minseok is willing to give. 

“Even so,” Minseok says, kissing him and reaching for the lubricant that had been lost to the sheets in their haste many hours ago, “Allow me to spoil you, my baby.” 

“You do that too much as it is,” Chanyeol says, pouting, but he nods when Minseok asks him softly if he can touch him, closing his eyes as Minseok pours lube all over his hole, pushes two fingers in immediately. Chanyeol groans, trembling as his still loose hole almost readily accepts his fingers. 

“Ah, still so sloppy,” Minseok purrs, and Chanyeol shivers at his low tone, the words trickling down his neck and making him whine quietly, arms curling around Minseok’s shoulders tighter, spreading his legs further apart. “I’m wondering if you’ll be able to take it, darling.”

“Please, don’t you be holding out on me now,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok laughs, fucking him with three fingers, not giving Chanyeol moment to breathe before he pulls out, slicking his cock up, and _ slamming _ into him, and Chanyeol is surprised that he even has enough of a voice left to even moan any louder, but he _ screams. _ Screams, gasping, his nails biting down on Minseok’s meaty shoulders as he lays their, _ taking it, _taking the pounding he’s being given.

“Where’d your words go, baby?” Minseok teases, grinning as he plows into his ass, pace unfaltering. “Too much?”

Chanyeol shakes his head, foregoing any words he already doesn’t have anyway, and he moans softly, whimpers as he throws his head back as he’s fucked, feeling himself sink into the mattress further and further with every sinful push of Minseok’s hips into his own, filling up his ass with his cock perfectly. 

The incessant, gnawing urge to fuck, to have something inside him, to be obscene and filthy and completely unrestrained, had disipated mostly early that morning. Now, what’s left is a simmering, almost gentle want to be close, intimate and have himself be filled, and while he _ wants _his daddy’s cock, he is surprisingly pliant, willing to accept anything he’s given while under Minseok’s familiar heat. 

He feels very much like Minseok’s baby, whining and whimpering beneath him as Minseok sinks into him, ducking him full with his cock. 

“You okay, baby?” Minseok hums gently, leaning down to trail his lips up Chanyeol’s jaw, driving in hard. 

“Ah, _ fuck, _ yeah,” he moans, and Minseok takes his hands. Laces their fingers together, and brings them up over Chanyeol’s head, and he _ pins _him down, fucking into him harder, shoving him down on to the bed with every push of his hips. 

It goes on like this, Minseok rocking his cock into his ass, Chanyeol laying there and _ taking it, _pliant and willing and wanting to be a good baby for him, the best baby, taking his cock like it’s nothing. 

“God, _ oh god, _ daddy,” Chanyeol moans, his legs flailing as Minseok rams in _ hard, _ their skin slapping together, and he searches desperately for Minseok’s lips, wanting his mouth on his, but he cries out as Minseok grinds his cock in deeper. He feels like his body is being split in two, Minseok’s cock so perfectly thick, more than enough to fill him up and make him lose his mind, so, so, so fucking _ perfect, _his ass has never had it better. 

He loves him. It would be so easy to say it, let the words spill in the leisurely, bright, _ wonderful _ afternoon, slow but still impossibly sexy, their bodies meeting so _ intimately, _and he yearns to say it. 

“Baby, _ baby,” _Minseok murmurs, and Chanyeol wrenches his hands out from where he’s being pinned down, flings his arms back over Minseok’s strong shoulders. Pulls him down to him, holding him close, whimpering as he’s pounded hard and lovingly, Minseok’s hips sinful as they roll and rail into him in equal measure. 

And Chanyeol, he takes it all. Loves it all, his body singing with it, almost overwhelmed as Minseok’s pace doesn’t let up. 

“Baby, I’ll slow down a bit,” Minseok murmurs, kissing the corner of his eyes. Chanyeol shakes his head, but when Minseok kisses his mouth gently, Chanyeol’s tastes it: the salty wetness that only could have come from his face. 

He hadn’t even realized he had been crying. But he can’t stop, louder and harder still and gasping, and Minseok pauses completely, kissing him, so, so soft. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry,” he offers, and Chanyeol doesn’t know why he’s apologizing when he doesn’t need to. “What do you want me to do?”

He shakes his head, wiping at his cheeks with the hand that’s covered by his sleeve, and Minseok waits patiently, touching his cheeks softly and brushing his hair back with a tenderness that makes Chanyeol’s heart ache. 

“Does it hurt?”

Chanyeol shakes his head. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

He shakes it again. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t,” he sniffs, leaning up to kiss Minseok again, their lips swollen and plump from it all, “It doesn’t hurt, I promise.”

“What can I do to make it better for you, baby?” Minseok asks, voice so warm and soft, and Chanyeol almost shakes his head, because it’s already perfect, but. 

He pauses, and his heart aches, his chest tight, and he wonders. If at least, just for now, “Can. Is it okay, can I call you by your name instead? Just this once?”

Minseok blinks at him, and Chanyeol can see his confusion on his face. 

They call each other by name, but. When they have sex, they are almost exclusively just _ ‘daddy’ _ and _ ‘baby;’ _a further emphasis on what they really are, the kind of relationship they actually have

And Chanyeol, he doesn’t mind it; he loves calling out for his daddy, to fuck him and wreck him and he loves being called Minseok’s baby. Loves it when he’s being spoiled so much in bed. 

But he can’t place it now. He wants little more, wants more than _ this. _But he can’t.

So, he hopes Minseok will let him pretend. 

But Minseok is _ more, _ and Chanyeol should have known he’d give him all he wanted and more; he _ smiles, _so soft, so beautiful, and he says, “Only if I get to call you by yours.”

Chanyeol’s eyes _ sting, _ and he sniffs, wiping at his tears, and Minseok waits. And he nods, and Minseok kisses his cheek, lingering on his dimple, and it sounds so, so sweet coming from his mouth, _ “Chanyeol. Chanyeol, my beautiful baby boy.” _

“Minnie, _ Minseok,” _Chanyeol whispers, and Minseok pauses, looking down at him. His eyes search his, his smile soft, and his eyes even more so. 

A kiss is pressed to Chanyeol’s lips, and Minseok’s hips move, his cock sinking into Chanyeol’s body, over and over, his pace slowed, but no less sinful, no less lewd. 

Chanyeol moans, keeping his tone low, but with every roll of Minseok’s hips makes him all the more breathless, his whole body trembling as Minseok holds him close as he fucks him.

“Minnie, Minnie,” Chanyeol chants under his breath like a prayer, his belly hot with the need to come already, and he can’t stop calling out for him. Can’t stop calling out for him, _ “Minseok. Minseok, oh. Oh, please-” _

_ “Yeollie, _my beautiful boy,” Minseok moans, kissing him, and his hips drive in harder, less controlled, and Chanyeol knows he’s close too. 

He gasps, clenches around his pounding cock, and they both groan, fucking and moving together, making each other feel good. Minseok is so _ thick, _ his length and weight so familiar inside him, so _ beautiful, _and Chanyeol begins to cry anew, sniffing and tears rolling down to his temples, his hard cock rubbing between their bodies, and it’s just a little more.

Minseok reaches down, the barest touch, and Chanyeol can’t hold it. He gasps, almost soundlessly, and he comes, ribbons of white spilling over their bellies, and he’s surprised he still had any left to give. 

“Oh, Minnie, Minseok,” he whines, closing his eyes, tired but feeling the brightness, contentment right down to his toes, a slow, _ wonderful _ sensation that makes his fingers curl. He pulls Minseok down, accepting every low, _ “Chanyeol, Chanyeol,” _ Minseok feeds into his mouth as he continues to fuck him, his cock making him feel so, _ so good, _still, until now. 

“Minseok, come for me,” Chanyeol says against his lips, cupping his face and _ kissing him, _ licking into his mouth and across his teeth and against his tongue, and usually, Minseok is the one who tells him that. Brings him up to the edge and utters those words and makes Chanyeol _ melt, _give him everything he has to offer. 

But now. Saying the words, he feels a warmth spread all over him, intensifying when Minseok gasps against his mouth, gripping the edge of the bed behind Chanyeol’s head and _ ramming _into him, fucking him down to the bed and spilling inside, filling him up with more of his come. 

Chanyeol feels a mild power, a beautiful, quiet bloom that Minseok allows to flourish with soft kisses, quick breaths against his skin as he calms down, his name so light on his lips, “Chanyeol, Chanyeol.”

He sniffs, hiding his face in Minseok’s neck. He thinks he’s still trembling, his chest tight with so many words he can’t say. “Thank you,” he says instead, quiet, sincere with everything he has.

Minseok pauses again. Then, his lips press tenderly against his temple, the corners of his eyes. “Of course, my baby.”

And they’re there again, right where Chanyeol knows they’re supposed to be, and his illusion is over. 

Chanyeol sniffs, holding tighter for just a moment more, taking it all in. Minseok stills for him, allows himself to be pulled closer, allows Chanyeol to kiss his face, and Chanyeol. He doesn’t know what to do. 

Minseok pulls away first, and Chanyeol tries to read his expression. Minseok’s smile is warm, still so soft, and he kisses Chanyeol’s lips with a tenderness that makes his toes curl.

But. There’s something Chanyeol cannot decipher. Just the subtlest hint, so brief that he thinks he might have just imagined it, but Minseok holds his hands, quietly says, “Let’s bathe, darling.”

And. Chanyeol follows, and follows him as they dress up after, and follows him as they walk down the street out of their hotel to a small restaurant Minseok knows. Follows him as they pack, and take a private car to the airport, hands clasped together, follows him as they check in, and.

Chanyeol cannot place it, still. Minseok is still as warm, still as gentle with him, but there is something different. He is more quiet, and while he is still generous with his touches, Chanyeol finds that he has to reach for him first, seek him out. 

It’s different. Minseok is usually the first to offer him his hand, the first to offer him kisses, and there is something _ different _that Chanyeol cannot place, cannot name.

They’re in the private jet, and Minseok is still quiet. Chanyeol watches him as he uses his phone, silent as the clouds kiss the plane as they fly, and Chanyeol doesn’t know what to do with this atmosphere. It’s not quite uncomfortable, but it’s so different from _ them _and Chanyeol squirms in his seat, unable to ignore it for much longer.

“Daddy?” he says, breaking their silence. Minseok looks up from his phone, and Chanyeol swallows as their eyes meet. 

“Yes, baby?” Minseok says, keeping his phone and waiting for Chanyeol patiently. 

Chanyeol doesn’t know why but his breath catches, suddenly nervous, and he tries grabbing his thighs, trying to not let himself fly out of his skin and he forces himself to say, “I just. Is there something wrong?”

Minseok shifts slightly, lowering his eyes to the ground, and. Maybe for the first time, Chanyeol is seeing him truly, undeniably nervous. Chanyeol cannot help the rolling of his stomach, the anxious press of his chest. 

Minseok doesn’t speak still, and Chanyeol swallows, feeling like. Like he might be sick, a little. “Did, did I do something?”

Minseok looks at him, and he shakes his head. He sighs, looking quietly resigned, and he says, “You did nothing differently, baby. Maybe that’s why.”

Chanyeol blinks, and then, his heart is sinking. He feels so _ tense, _so inexplicably nervous, and Minseok never acts this way with him. Never cryptic, too cautious with his words or his touches, and he doesn’t know what to feel.

Then. He’s suddenly hounded with the awful, _ awful _thought, that. 

That Minseok might not want him anymore. Not want him in _ that _way, because.

Because Chanyeol had asked for too much. Made his feelings all too evident. 

He keeps himself quiet despite the storm raging inside him, making him want to break down, making him so, _ so _unwilling to hear whatever will come out of Minseok’s mouth, watching him sigh and gather his words, probably deciding how to break up with him.

Minseok opens his mouth, and Chanyeol steels himself, holding back the tears already gathering in his eyes. It’s punishing, to hear him say, “I. I’m sorry, baby. This arrangement. I feel like it’s ruined, somehow.”

Chanyeol feels like he’s dying, slowly, chest aching and aching and he wants to be anywhere but here, hearing the love of his life break up with him, despite their strictly casual relationship. 

But, Minseok speaks again, and Chanyeol feels his world shake, “I’m sorry, baby. I messed up. I, I promise, I know it’s not what we’re supposed to be. But, I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Every noise in that moment ceased to exist. Chanyeol doesn’t breathe, feels like his heart, his ears are playing with him, but Minseok rubs his neck, breathing slowly, says, “I love you.”

And Chanyeol, like the soft baby he is, like the idiot who’s kept himself quiet for months, trying not to admit his feelings, _ cries. _ He sobs loudly, relief and disbelief and _ so much _clogging up his chest, clouding his vision and he can’t stop, can’t can’t can’t. 

“Yeollie, I’m sorry,” Minseok says, and Chanyeol shakes his head, still unable to speak, the words still escaping him. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

He covers his eyes, wiping desperately at his cheeks with his hands as he tries to calm himself down, his chest so, so _ light _but tense with everything he wants to say, everything overwhelming him at once, and. He never wants Minseok to apologize to him, for being in love with him. 

He doesn’t see, but he hears Minseok come over to him, crouching in front of his seat, his palms cautious on his knees, patting him softly, to comfort, but he’s so far. Too careful, too wary, and Chanyeol still can’t get a hold of himself. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Chanyeol catches the smallest hint of hurt in his voice, masked over with his soothing tone, for him, just for him. “It doesn’t have to affect us, or. Or our arrangement. I’ll, I’ll forget about it, if that’s what you want.”

Chanyeol cries, sobs like a loud little baby, and he suddenly remembers in that moment, that day when he had judged Baekhyun for _ sobbing _and breaking down in front of Yixing.

And Chanyeol. He _ gets _it now.

Chanyeol hiccups, crying still, but gathering himself. He gets off his seat, climbs on top of Minseok’s lap, and stays there, holding him, wanting to be as close as he can, trying to think of the words he wants to say most.

Minseok is patient, _ so _ patient, _ too _understanding, too noble, telling him, “I understand, baby. I promise, you don’t have to be too bothered about this. It’s my problem to deal with, please don’t cry.” 

Chanyeol hiccups, sniffs hard. Then, he says, “Stupid.”

“I know I am, I crossed a line. I’m sorry,” Minseok apologizes easily, and that’s not what Chanyeol had meant at all. 

His chest shakes, and he pulls back, his face ugly and swollen and snotty, and Minseok looks nothing less than completely in love with him. He’s been so hopeful, so quiet, and now. “ No. I mean, you’re stupid, for thinking I am anything other than so besotted and in love with you.”

And Minseok. He pauses, unbreathing, eyes wide and mouth slightly opened, just looking at him. Disbelief on his face, and he’s so, so, _ so _beautiful.

Chanyeol loves him so much. His chest is the lightest it has ever been, and when Minseok’s lips slowly curl into that beautiful, _ beautiful _smile, so soft and pretty, Chanyeol sobs again, leaning down to kiss him.

“Tell me again,” Minseok requests so softly. His hands are warm on Chanyeol’s waist, lips on Chanyeol’s own. “Yeollie, my beautiful love.”

Chanyeol flies. Kisses him again, takes it in, slowly, still not knowing what to do. But now, _ now, _ not alone.**  
**

**Author's Note:**

> me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/xiusikwoo)


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